Angel Of Death
by OyNebach42
Summary: Why does He give light to the sufferer and life to those of bitter soul?" How Adam left the Ponderosa, and what became of him.Death Fic! Sort of AU. Very depressing, attempted suicide in first chapter. reviews welcome. I don't own Bonanza. Finished!
1. A single Bullet

Note on the text: This is a very depressing piece of work I have written. Don't read it if you already feel like jumping off a bridge or throwing yourself from a two story window. My take on why/how Adam left the Ponderosa, his reason for wearing black, and what became of him in the years after. This is not a happy humor story, once again do not read if you are already depressed, because I will not be giving your family a monthly check, or paying your doctor's bills. Aside from that, you may review if you have something to say. Pro or Con to my story, it shall be excepted. This is all written in Adam's point of view. Enjoy… as much as you can.

Angel Of Death

Chapter 1: A Single Bullet

Genesis, the beginning; I wish this was starting with such a blessing and promise as creation, but for the past fourteen years, my life has been nothing but destruction.

I was given a portion of death the moment I entered the world. When I was born, my mother died.

As time wore on my misery worsened. Each day seemed encircled with sorrow, as I watched loved ones, friends, and relatives pass away. I found it foolish even to think of removing my black mourning garb. There was bound to be another tragedy lurking close by.

I began to fanaticize that I was the angel of death, shortening the lives of all those around me. I started to sink into depression, a bottomless grave that would have claimed my life had my father not suggested I leave the Ponderosa at that time.

By now news of my departure has most likely traveled throughout town, so I have no need to hide it now. But when it was first suggested, my leaving was meant to be secretive.

I was recovering after the death of Marta Swift. News had been brought to me a week previously about her wagon plunging over a cliff side. I sat in my room that night, contemplating Marta's life, how happy and joyous she had seemed, how one smile on her delicate face could lift such a weight from my shoulders. Tears ran down my cheeks, there was no mercy in life, I could see that now, the only real escape from sadness was death. I envied those who had left the world.

I picked up a pen from the desk, contemplating life, wondering if it was worth all its hardships. The pen began to move across a sheet of paper that lay before me, but it was not my hand that guided it.

By the time I had finished, a three-lined letter gazed up at me, short and to the point, a suicide note.

I took my gun from its holster and fingered the weapon, what a blessed piece of machinery! With a slight pull, it brought redemption, just a small show of force, and I would find peace.

Opening the barrel, I discovered two missing bullets, reminders of two now dead outlaws in town. I wished I had gone as early as they, it did not matter if some bullets were missing, all I needed was one bullet to complete the task.

And suddenly, I was frightened. Dreading the pain it would bring. A metal capsule burrowing though one's skull is bound to hurt. I rebuked myself, for was not an eternal peace worth at least a small pain?

I raised the gun to my head. The metal's cold chill flashed over my temple, I shuddered slightly.

Tears began to once again flow from my eyes. Tears for all the lovers I'd lost, tears of misery, and tears of grief. Why? Why had all the destruction fallowed me? Harsh sobs racked my frame.

The door opened, I swung around, it was Pa. There was a paper in his hand, and he was smiling. "Son I was reading this and I thought-" He noticed my tear stained face, and the gun poised in my hand.

"ADAM!" He shouted running across the room towards me. I tried to pull the trigger, but found I could not, forcibly; my father removed it from my hands.

He said something to me, but I could not distinguish it, I could neither see nor hear anything. My eyes were closed to the tears that squeezed out of my lids, each a painful reminded that I was still alive. My ears blocked out all other noise except for that of my sobs.

I felt Pa hug me, pulling my wracked frame towards him and murmuring reassuringly. "Adam…Adam…" I finally made out him saying, "it's going to be alright son, it's going to be alright."

He helped me into bed shortly after, picked up my revolver, and left. During the night I was aware of him sitting near my bed like he used to do when I was younger, protecting me from the dark, and protecting me from myself.


	2. Dependent

I would like to thank No1butjoe, for their reassuring review. That having been said I would like to personally invite all you other people out there to review! Come on give!

Chapter 2: Dependent

Upon descending the stairs the next morning, I found Hoss and Joe gone. Most unusually, I was the latest raiser. Pa was waiting for me, sitting at his place by the table. I pondered turning around and returning to my room. I found myself in no mood to discuss what had transpired the night before. But instead, I continued to the ground floor, and took my place opposite Pa.

He said nothing to me, but I could feel his gaze following my every move, waiting for me to began talking.

I refrained for a while, studying the detail on my china plate. A hot buscit found its way into my hand, and as I ripped it open with weary fingers I muttered thickly, "I can't stand it anymore, Pa."

There was silence for a moment, I picked up the honey dipper.

"I know son," Pa's understanding voice came at the end.

Rich, golden honey dripped on to my biscuit. "My whole life- every where I turn- every where I go- there's death."

"I know you loved her, Adam."

The honey dipper fell to my plate, and I tried to control the tears swelling up in my eyes.

Pa continued. "I understand how you feel, son. I of all people should know what it's like, don't think I was never tempted the way you've been, but I held on."

"How?" I asked bitterly raising my eyes to his face, and letting him see the misery there.

He held my gaze, "I realized I had to many people relying on me, you, Hoss and Joe… I realized that submitting to my temptation was a foolish and selfish act, and I withstood it. We rely on you, Adam; all of us, Joe, Hoss and Myself."

I lowered my gaze, despite Pa's words; I highly doubted anyone was dependant on me. Joe was a full-grown man, hardly the one to need an elder brother's critiquing anymore. Hoss was the same. Those two could handle the ranch alone. Then I thought of Pa, he'd lived through harsher things in his life then the loss of a son.

Noticing I was not fully swayed, Pa continued, "There's something else I want you to do, Adam. It helped me when I was going through what you are now… Take a day off and Go see the reverend in town."

The reverend, the only man who could send his congregation to hell in a bread basket one week, and the next peach to us of repentance. I doubted any of his sermons could save me, but I nodded. It would make no difference, I reasoned, if I spent the whole day listening to religious talks, or repairing fences. One day less, each breath a breath closer….

Pa rose from the table, after a few moments I felt his hand rest upon my shoulder. "Take care of yourself, Adam. Remember, we're relying on you…" I could tell he was forcing a calm happy mood for my sake, but from the way he tightened his grip on my shoulder, I could distinguish his real feelings, Pa was worried.

Worried he may yet lose his oldest son. I can't say I blame him, at the time I felt the curse of life strongly, and was determined to rid myself of it at all cost.

"Yes, Pa." I muttered darkly.

"Good," his voice was carefree, but his eyes told the truth. "I'm going to help Hoss and Joe with the upper pastures, remember, what I said Adam." With that, my father picked up his hat and left.

And I was alone, by myself. Thoughts of Marta instantly entered my mind. With great longing and grief, I recalled our last meeting.

We had only known each other for two months, but already I felt I had found the right girl. There was no question. Marta filled a void in myself that no other had been able to. Her soft, quiet nature claimed my soul and I pledged to myself, that the next time we met I would ask for her hand.

The next I saw her, she was in a box.

Fate is evil; it only wishes to bring about tragedy. It was fate that deemed Marta should die, and it was fate that stripped me of her. Her accident had happened so quickly, I found it hard to believe that she had left me.

I noticed my biscuit, and turned my eyes from it. I had no desire to eat from such a sweet food. Why G-d, I asked, why had it been her?

Standing up, I made my way towards the door. There was a man in town who may be able to answer that question.

I reached out for my gun belt, but found it missing. It was most likely better that way, heaven knows what would have happened had I taken my gun. I highly doubt I would be retelling this now if I had.


	3. Tombstone

Alright, I want to start off by saying that I am extremely grateful to all those of you who reviewed, it helps out so much when you all do that. Thanks to; Phyl, Nicole Harpe, Empress and once again, No1butjoe, with out you guys, this chapter would most likely still be in the rough copy, rotting in my notebook. NOTE: THIS CHAPTER IS EXRTEMEMLY SAD!!! READ WITH TISSUES HANDY!!! So I've blabbered on long enough, you guys know comments are always welcome. -OyNebach42

Chapter Three: Tombstone

As I rode into town, the beating of my horse's hooves numbed me to all motion and noise, I was hardly aware when I reached Virginia City.

The town lost all the charm it used to hold for me, I barely even left the Ponderosa anymore. The Saloon no longer appealed to me, neither did coming in contact with others. I had shut myself into a separate world, and I had no longing leave it. I even stopped going in on Sundays, my seat in the church was left vacant.

I drew up alongside the white building and dismounted. Being a Tuesday the grounds were empty. I pushed open the gate and entered the courtyard.

I found my eyes staring with great longing to the graveyards beyond. Marta's tombstone was there, her body lay below the grass, in eternal slumber.

"Adam Cartwright!" I turned to see the reverend, standing just inside the doorway. He was wearing overalls, with a straw hat perched on his head. "It's good to see you joining the community again. I'm afraid you're a little late for my sermon though." The reverend smiled, but his grin quickly faded when he noticed my frown.

He did not make me speak, he see I had a problem on my mind. "I was just on my way to tend to some of the graves, why don't you join me?"

I mumbled in acknowledgement, and we started out to the cemetery. "I know I should hire a gardener to take care of the plots, but I like to help the dear departed in anyway that I can."

My gaze fell to the dirt road. We stopped before a small shed and the reverend removed a hoe and bucket. "Most people forget," he continued, passing me the pail, "that the deceased are as close to the after they've gone as they were before, sometimes even more."

I nodded bluntly, hardly recognizing any truth in the reverend's words. Marta had never felt so far, the fine line of death she had passed over, never so thick.

"We all have times in our lives," the reverend announced, "when we suffer a great loss, it's a great task the L-rd assigns on all of us not to circum to our grief. Some have a harsher time of it then others but we all suffer."

I lifted my eyes to Marta's grave, and I contemplated the once living woman who's strength now nurtured the oak tree which grew beside her final resting place.

As if he noticed my distraction, the reverend changed direction towards the hill, so that we moved approaching my love's grave.

"Life is precious, Adam. Everything the L-rd gives us is a gift, our money, our homes, the food we eat, the clothes we wear, and the days, which we live out. It's a slap in the L-rd's face if we simply throw His gift away. Each man is blessed with a curtain number of mornings he'll wake up to, some are given years, others mere days, but they are all blessings. Should not the L-rd know when is the best time to remove us from this world? Don't take the L-rd's judgment into your own hands, Adam."

Marta's white headstone shone in the dappled light that forced itself through the tree leaves. Almost perfectly preserved flowers adorned the tombstone. The ground above the body was still black dirt from the funeral.

Sadness, and numbing grief filled my heart.

"Here's a plot that doesn't need too much work… just pick the weeds… Maybe water the tree, the drought's been pretty harsh this year." The reverend muttered, expressing the views of a gardener. "I'll check on you later."

I watched him turn to go. He stopped and faced me. "Talk to her, Adam. Even though Marta's with the L-rd, she can still hear you."

Then he left, my eyes refocused on the grave of my love. Marta. Tears rose to my eyes. I fell to my knees, unable to stand upright as the presence of grief bore down hard on my shoulders. She was dead. Marta Swift was dead. My Marta. How I longed just to be able to see her once more, feel her soft lips, confess my love again and again. But I could not. I sat by her grave.

I studied the tree by her resting place with new eyes, it was large enough. It's braches stretched out thick and strong enough to support my weight. All I longed for was a rope. I remembered my belt.

The words of the reverend returned to mind, a man's days on earth were a blessing. No, I reasoned, my allotted time in this world was not a blessing, but a curse.

What had I done to deserve this?

I recalled Marta, ever happy, excepting hardships with a contented smile. The tears overflowed their banks. I let my neck give way, and my head slumped into the crock of my arm. Morning wails rose in my throat. "I failed you, Marta!" I moaned out. "My strength has left me, I am the mere shell of a defeated man."

The wind blew around me, I could hear it rustle as it brushed against the tree leaves. I cared not how it tore at my coat, or attempted to drag my hat from my head. I did not care for anything any longer.

Something moist and cold fell onto the back of my hand, I stirred and cought it before the wind could carry it away. It was a small pink rose petal. From the wreath that crowned Marta's tombstone.

She had failed me as well.

"It's not you're fault," I mumbled watching the grave with sorrowful eyes.

The wind tossed again, shaking the braches of the tree.

"I wished I had been there with you, then we'd be together. I wish I were buried beside you, Marta. I miss you."

I felt the gale whip around my face, brushing away my tears.

"I never got to tell you anything, after you got back I was going to ask for your hand…." My voice failed me as I was choked by my sorrow. I turned my face away from her grave, "I want to join you."

Gust of wind pelted me, surrounding me with harsh blows. It was not meant to be; I saw that for myself now. If it had been, I would have accomplished the task the other night. Marta was not ready for me, and neither was the L-rd.

"I love you, Marta." I mumbled as the wind died down. And left altogether.

I stood up from the ground, and looked longingly at the grave. But it was not my time, the L-rd knew when I would be excepted, Marta was waiting for me. Even if it took years or ages, I knew she would be standing just inside the gates, smiling.

Weeds had sprung up around my love's resting place, and I turned upon them with a blinding furry. Angrily, I ripped each one from the earth; no retched weed would be nourished by my love. Only after all the yellow-topped plants were removed did I turn to leave the hill.

The reverend was waiting for me, at the start of the incline smiling. "Welcome back, my son." He called patting me on the shoulder, "welcome home, Adam."

Writer's note- I almost cried while writing this…. Hoping I didn't cause anyone out there discomfort like that.


	4. Relief

It snowed here this morning, I'm stuck in. Thought I might as well write. Why not. Phyl, I'm sorry I mislead you by saying it would be sad, sorry. Thanks again to No1butjoe, and also Phyl. Here's the next chapter, hope you guys like it-OyNebach42

Chapter Four: Relief

After I returned, Pa stopped worrying, I could tell from the relief on his face after I told him of my meeting.

Every day I found myself journeying into town for longer and longer amounts of time. Staying at Marta's grave, and finding peace in her presence. Once I stayed out longer than anyone had planed, returning far past midnight. Pa began to worry anew. For my sanity.

I am sure he thought that after one visit, I would have put Marta's grave behind me and moved on. I could not. Daily, sitting by my love's resting place I would besiege her, asking if now were my time. Only the harsh gales answered.

At home, I spent my time meditating, rethinking my life. My family grew used to asking me questions twice, and in the end avoided talking to me at all. Hoss and Joe mostly tried to remain outside my private world. Pa on the other hand thought that the only way for me to once again become his son was by drawing me out of my well builtup meditative state.

"Son," he would try night after night, "Adam," he would add after I remained mute. "Adam!" He finally almost bellowed before I noticed.

"Yes Pa?" I would ask hesitantly, knowing my father's true motive.

He would usually force a smile; "we're having a dance next week,"

I knew, I had heard of no other talk from Hoss and Joe. Dancing, Marta had always been good at it… I recalled the nights we used to spend together… I wondered if my time was drawing close.

"ADAM!" Pa's voice would come, shattering my thoughts.

"What is it Pa?"

My father would shake his head and say no more. I remembered the time of the dance, while my family was at home hosting the biggest event of the year, I brought fresh flowers to Marta's grave.

I could not think of ever loving another woman. Marta was the only girl for me. No other ever appealed to me the way she did.

The reverend, even with all his caring nature and understanding principle, thought I had lost my mind. At times, he would journey with me to the top of the hill, and sit while I spoke to my love. For one reason or another, he did not understand. He had listened to many one sided conversations, but Marta and I communicated. As we had when she lived.

I would talk to her, and the wind would blow.

Pa could stand it no more. "Son," he told me one day, taking me aside and laying an arm across my shoulders, "What do you think about taking a trip to San Francisco?"

"On business?" Pa was often sending in his stead to attend to matters he had not the time for.

"No, Adam. I was just thinking maybe you need to get away for a while. See new things, enjoy yourself."

I saw through his ploy. He wanted to separate me from Marta. He thought that if I were in a different town, seeing other women, I would move past the tragedy and get on with life.

I shook my head, "I'm fine here, Pa."

My Father did not give up. The next day he came to me again, "please Adam," he begged, "do it for me. I've been where you are now, the only way to over come all this is to put it behind you."

I thought to myself, reasoning about which course of action I should follow. There was no harm in going, to please Pa, for a few weeks and returning. Nothing would change, Marta would be waiting. I nodded, "I'll go," I muttered weakly.

Pa smiled, "I bought you a ticket on a stage leaving Monday, I'd like you to take that one."

Monday, two days, only two more days to see my love's resting place. And then I would leave, not to return for weeks. Pa went on telling me a few more details about the trip, I ignored most of them, except for the fact that the justice of the town was one of Pa's old friends, which did not surprise me. Pa has many old friends through out the territory.

Later, Pa left to go inside, and I saddled Sport. I longed to be at Marta's side now, the flowers on her tombstone would need to be replaced, and I wanted to inform her of my trip.


	5. Grouping In Darkness

Sorry it took so long for me to put up another chapter, I've been working on other stuff. The snows all melted, so I'm just writing. Here's the next chapter, enjoy- OyNebach42

Chapter Five: Grouping In Blackness

I left that Monday, I did not prepare to be gone for an extended time, nor did I speak at length about my trip with Hoss or Joe.

Pa took care of that for me, explaining how I was leaving for a few weeks. Unusually, Joe didn't put up a fuss, he would always complain; when younger, about my trips, but he has matured now and merely commented that that was nice, and asked Hoss to pass the butter.

Hoss smiled at me from across the table, "that's real nice that you're goin' to San Francisco, Adam. Don't worry about anything here, just have a nice time." Forcing a grateful smile, I returned to my meal.

The subject of conversation drifted to an upcoming cattle drive, and no further mention of my trip was made, until I left.

Before I went to town, Pa hugged me. "Be safe, son. Remember to write if you end up staying longer than planed."

"I will Pa." I nodded.

Joe didn't even shake my hand. "Bye Adam." He mumbled, quite used to my leavings, not moving from his spot on the sofa.

I told him bye back. Hoss said nothing; he would be accompanying me to town, and would say his farewells there.

We took a buggy so it could accommodate my carpetbag. I guessed that was not the only reason, but for the goodness of brotherhood, I said nothing.

I've heard tell that that fall was the fairest the Nevada territories has experienced in some time, I took no notice of it that year. Sitting numbly on the wagon, immune to the glory of the world around me.

Marta never had enjoyed life in town, a trait we had that in common. I asked myself if it would be possible to find a girl like her in San Francisco.

"Adam! Adam, we're in town." Hoss announced, swinging down from his seat.

I nodded, as I got down and took my carpetbag in hand. The stage was not in, so Hoss and I joined an already gathering group of passengers. Most of them were from out of town, returning to San Francisco, but I recognized some of them.

My gaze turned to the cemetery, far off and down the road. The wind ruffled the oaks leaves, and I could see tall grasses sway.

"Don't worry, Adam." Hoss was saying, "I'll make sure the flowers stay fresh on Marta's grave."

I smiled at him gratefully, Hoss, pure heart. "Thanks," I lightly called as the stage pulled up.

"You enjoy yourself, Adam. And don't worry 'bout things here." I took my place in the stage.

"See you, Hoss." I mumbled as the horses started up.

But I would not.

As we pulled away from Virginia City, I sent my last gaze to Marta's resting place. I would return. I would never forget.

For the most part, my journey into San Francisco was straightforward and uneventful. All the while, I peered out the window, watching the wasteland spread out beside me, and the wind brush against the sage plants. I was a lone man, in a crowded space.

The moment I set foot in the large busy town, I knew I had made a mistake in coming. I walked along cramped streets, blindly ignoring all hotels. I was like a homeless man, feeling out of place and alone among the happy, citizens of San Francisco.

My feet tramped along, I cared not where they took me. All I wanted was to be away, away from the world, away from society, away from life. I found myself in a semi quiet ground. A young couple was sitting beside one another on a low stonewall. I listened as they talked of the future and love. They were so innocent and unknowing; I could stand it no longer.

Sadness engulfed me as I turned from them and started away. I longed to escape the mournful visions I saw. Marta, and me as we should have been. My pace quickened. I stopped again, this time in a soundless field. A metal gate surrounded it, and light colored stones stood inside, reminders of the dead.

I was in the cemetery, but there was no wind here, no blissful presence for me to lose myself in. No grave under an oak tree calling to me. Empty land. And then, I was granted a vision, for surely it could not have been real. A woman stood by one of the tombstones, tears spilling down her cheeks, and eyes never leaving the final resting place.

"Well Tom," she choked out after a while, "you must know how much I miss you. I dare say you miss me, but no, you have all those angels…." She smiled faintly to herself. "No doubt you've seen some of the finest women up there. I know I'm no beauty. You said it yourself countless times, my frizzy hair and spectacles…. 'Red headed women you'd say, how'd I love one?' I don't think you ever did. But you took good care of me, Tom. And for that I shall always be thankful…." She broke down; heart wrenching sobs filling the cemetery.

I felt something, an attraction, though I am sure it was not her looks that made me feel this way. She was not a very attractive woman, but some relationships run deeper than that, most of the good ones do, at any rate.

I still don't know how I ever managed to walk to her. All I know was one moment I was watching her from afar, and the next I was beside her, letting her cry on my shoulder.

Like two people blinded by darkness, we grouped together, supporting each other with our presence.


	6. Ella Hunter

Sorry it's taken so long for me to post the next chapter. I feel like I have to be in the right mood to write on this story. The only problem with having a story based on emotion. Oh well, I'll try it now. Here's the next chapter, Enjoy- OyNebach42

Chapter Six: Ella Hunter

Once she had recovered herself, the woman backed away from me hurriedly, somehow ashamed of what she had done. She stammered an apology. I merely watched her; I could say nothing, for the expression I found in her eyes was akin to my own. Sadness, dread, grief.

"I'm sorry," I heard her say in the end, "I didn't mean to…" Her words trailed off as she turned to leave.

"You had every right too." I called after her.

She turned around and stared.

I turned my attention to the grave. "Was he you husband?" I asked, hardly aware of what I was saying.

She nodded, "Tom." Pain came over her face as she muttered the name of her husband.

Lowering my eyes, I studied the tombstone.

"You've lost someone as well, haven't you?" She asked bluntly, her voice quaking.

A lone wind whirled about, brushing past me quickly. "Yes," I sighed, "Marta."

Neither one of us spoke for a while, absorbed in our own thoughts. I know not what she was thinking, but I was thinking that only seer fate had brought us together then. Nothing else could explain it.

A quick glance at her face reviled the same. "My name's Adam Cartwright," I began. "And you're?"

"Ella," She responded voice gaining strength, "Ella Hunter."

Ella, the name seemed out of place on this woman. Somehow, maybe it was her lack of beauty, but grace and charm were apparent in her every movement. She was not from around those parts, her accent suggested somewhere in the South.

I nodded politely, and said I must be going.

It was Ella who stopped me this time, "It was nice to have met you, Mister Cartwright," she said simply, but I could tell there was more behind her blue eyes that for some reason, she would not revile.

"Goodbye, Mrs. Hunter." I left then. Maybe she was the right girl; fate has a way of making itself heard, maybe. I turned back to her; she stood by her husband's grave, the wind returned, blowing about her. I had a feeling I would be seeing Ella Hunter again. I was not disappointed.

A/N: sorry it's so short, hopefully I'll write more soon, until then-OyNebach42


	7. Parallel Lines

I'm back again. Sorry it's taken forever. Anyway, I've been taking too long, here's the next part, Enjoy-OyNebach42

Chapter Seven: Parallel Lines

In town, I checked into the smallest hotel I could find. I was in the wrong town, I'm afraid to want to be left alone. I never have liked big cities. Often, I would walk out of town, and sooth myself with the country air.

There is no life like that spent in rural areas.

On one of these such exertions, I stumbled upon a farm. I call it a farm, it was more of an old run down barn setting on a few aches. Unattended for many years. The oddest thing still, was that I could see smoke drifting from the farmhouse's chimney.

Fine, I thought to myself, some old tramp has taken over this barren land, and staked his claim where no other would dare.

I was about to turn and leave, when the door opened. "Mister Cartwright?" An unsure voice asked.

Ella Hunter stood in the doorway; it was surprising as I wondered why she of all people would life on such a rundown property. "Mrs. Hunter," I called tipping my hat, "I beg your pardon, I was taking a stroll and I seem to have run into you again."

She sighed to herself for a moment, and then faced me again, "wound you like to come in?" She asked.

My fist impulse was to decline, and I almost did, until I noticed her willing face. "Thank you, I would like that." I mumbled.

Ella moved inside and gestured for me to follow.

The insides of the house were as crude as the exterior, I noted, eyes meeting rotting walls that I trailed to the ceiling, seeing missing singles above.

"You'll have the excuse the state of things," Ella called as if reading my thoughts, "Tom and I bought this place a year ago, we were going to tear it down and start from scratch…." Her voice left her, and I could tell she was remembering unpleasant happenings, "Then one thing led to another and….. Well, we never did get to finish it."

We reached a small wooden table and she moistened for me to take a seat. I did so, choosing the chair in more disrepair for myself.

"I have some tea water warming up, would you care for some?" Ella asked, moving over to the stove.

I nodded, placing my hands on the table before me, trying not to cringe at the rough wooden feel.

Ella moved about the kitchen, setting out two cups, saucers and spoons for each of us. She also sat a cream pitcher on the table, but I couldn't help but notice there was no sugar bowl.

"You're not from around here, Mister Cartwright are you?" Ella inquired while ferrying a hot kettle to the table.

Shaking my head, I muttered, "No ma'am, I'm from the Nevada territories, around Virginia City. You're not from San Francisco yourself, are you?"

"I'm from Witch Tall Falls, in Texas."

I smiled to myself, the accent had been Southern, thought closer to home then I had thought.

Ella sat down across from me, and served the tea. "I'm used to having it colder than this I'm afraid," She added with a faint hint of a smile, "it's too hot to drinking hot tea in Texas."

"It is turning out to be a fairly cold fall," I put in glancing around at her unequipped house.

"Yes, it is. I can hear the wind howling nights, and the clouds streak past in daylight, it's sure to be a cold one this year." She added decidedly.

I put some cream in my tea, the lack of sugar was apparent, and I wondered if she lacked the money to buy it. "Do you have work around here?" I asked.

"I work at one of the school houses in town. Not very good pay but I manage. In fact, I'm thinking about moving into town, I'd be closer to the school that way, and rent in a room is no more than the mortgage payments here." She sighed again, "but I just can't leave the farm."

It was easy for me to understand her, ties to the land. I felt the same way about the Ponderosa.

"And what about you Mister Cartwright, are you employed?"

I smiled slightly, "I can't really say that I am, I have a degree in engineering, but don't really do work in that anymore, I have before, I designed a few barns a mill here and there, but I don't know somehow I never felt quite satisfied in that field."

Ella's smile mirrored my own, "I agree whole heartedly, Mister Cartwright, if I had my way, I'd spend my time out gardening, but then how would I be able to keep the farm? Tom always wanted to grow Cotton, somehow he thought it would do well out here. That was how he planed to get our income, cotton. He said there was good money in it, I suppose he should know, before the war his father owned one of the largest plantations."

I sipped my tea, and frowned at the bitter taste. A wind rushed thought the house's half filled walls causing me to shiver. There was no way; I could not stand to see another living under such conditions. "Mrs. Hunter," I began, "I haven't done any engineering work in a while, but I can still remember how the fix a roof and build some more suitable walls before winter comes, that is, if you will allow me to help."

She nodded, "I would like that very much, but I would prefer to pay you something."

"A home cooked meal every now and again would do me well. And I may want to try that cold tea you were talking about."

Ella smiled and her hand clasp mine, "Thank you Mister Cartwright, thank you."


	8. Support

Hello everyone, once again sorry for such a long wait, I stated reading a book called, 'the hickhiker's guide to the galaxy' and I've been sucked in

Hello everyone, once again sorry for such a long wait. Turning to other matters I would just like to send out a note of thanks to all you guys who reviewed, NOgal and kaci, who I would just like to say cool that you live so close to Witch Tall Falls, I have folks from there. And my newest reviewer, Calim, to what website are you referring? As soon as I'm done with the whole thing I'm going to submit it to Bonanzaworld. So here's the next chapter enjoy.-OyNebach42

Chapter Eight: Support

I came by Ella's house the next day, and started working on the walls. They were in rough shape, it would have been easier to tear down the whole building and began anew, the house was not vacant, however, and therefore this was an imposable idea.

I studied the wall, noting what would have to be done. Most of the panels would have to be replaced, and some needed to be reaffixed, I would have my work cut out for me.

"I'm going to need to cut some more beans for this wall." I told Ella.

She told me there was an axe out back. I found it next to what had once been the wood pile, though now it was nothing more than a collection of twigs and wood chips. Upon studying the axe, I found it to also be in poor condition.

I got to looking around me, and saw that the house wasn't the only structure needing work. A chicken coop, housing a few hens, was almost dilapidated, and the fence surrounding the house, paint peeled stakes. It would take along while before this farm ever got up and running, unless I had more men on the job.

I made my way back inside and talked with Ella. I told her about the benefits of having more labors, but she just shook her head. "Most men aren't as nice as you, Mister Cartwright, they want high wages, and I just can't afford that kind of expense."

"I'm not doing badly in money," I muttered, "I could spare enough for some men easily."

Ella started to say something about being fine, but I shrugged. "My family owns a large ranch," I explained, while taking out my wallet, "just me, my father and brothers, so we have money to spare." Counting my green backs I asked, "How much would it cost to hire a dozen men in these parts?"

"About four dollars a day," she called eyes never leaving my stack of money,  
"but you really don't-"

'I have two hundred here; if it cost above that, I can send for more." Gently, I placed the mound of bills in her hand.

She started at the money longingly, yet still found the strength to mutter, "It's very gentlemanly, and kind of you, Mister Cartwright. But I just don't think I can accept, how would I ever repay you?"

I smiled, "call it a gift and take the money, Mrs. Hunter."

The next thing I knew, I was being hugged to death, and thankful caressing words had filled the air. It took a while for me to get my breath back, and when I did an amazing conclusion suddenly came to me; Pa had been right, someone did rely on me.

A/N sorry if this chapter isn't so much up to par with those before it, I'm trying to get back into the swing of things. Review and tell me what you think-OyNebach42


	9. Afraid

It's taken forever for me to get up a new chapter so here it is. Read, Review and Enjoy!-OyNebach42

Chapter Nine: Afraid

The next evening also found me at Ella's, all morning long I had worked on the house and now I was chopping wood out back. Earlier, I hired a team of men to assist with the repairs, and though it had been rather expensive, I was sure the quality of the finished product would be well worth the hefty price.

Thoughts of Marta had been flooding my mind all day, and stood under the stars, I couldn't help but feel over come by my memories. She and I used to enjoy warm summer nights, I could all but feel her hands upon my shoulders. But this night was chilly, and Marta was not there to comfort me.

I raised my axe, and brought it down, neatly splitting a board in two. The pieces fell, and a new log took their place. My muscles already ached from working on the house, but I knew I could not rest until I knew Marta was taken care of.

A lone idea interred my mind that I was moving on. Putting the death of my love behind me. Becoming interested in other women. I shook my head diffidently, I was the same man who had left the Pondarosa, waiting for death, longing for the end. Or was I? Lately, I'd been looking forward to seeing another day, the next sunrise, another moment with Ella. Was I the same man? I didn't know what to think, every answer seemed wrong.

That single idea grew until it encompassed my entire being, laughing at me mockingly, rebuking me for my weakness. A mixed feeling overcame me, and I let the axe hang limply from my hand. Adam Cartwright, it laughed, you are a fool. I knew I was, casting all the love I had given Marta aside, and thinking a woman I hardly even knew was found of me. And actually wanting her to be found of me.

I should have just ended all my suffering then, the easiest way would have been swift cut to my wrist. All the blood would pump from my vanes; I would be free.

Purposefully, I turned my palm upward and lifted the axe. My time had come. I would succeed now. I inhaled deeply, and began to bring the weapon down, when suddenly I stopped.

I couldn't carry out the action. The axe fell from my hand, and I closed my eyes, allowing grief to engulf me. I was sure then, that I was a poor excuse for a man.

I sat down on the wood stump hurriedly, wanting to feel something solid beneath me. I remembered what the preacher had told me, about every day being a gift. But still I felt guilty. Why should I enjoy life, if my love was dead? I buried my head in my hands, life should mean nothing. But what would Martha do? I asked myself, if I had been the one who's life had been cut short? Would act as I had? Or would she continue living? If she did meet someone she had feelings for, would she be with them? Or ignore all impulses like I had.

Sighing deeply, I realized the answer to all my problems was yes. Marta would keep on living, and so should I. A rough wind stirred about me, bring with it the fragrance of sweat grass, my love was comforting me. Just then I felt a hand rest upon my shoulder.

"Are you alright, Mister Cartwright?" A worried voice asked.

I turned and looked at Ella, her face illuminated by the full moon's light. "Yes Ma'am," I replied while standing up, "I'm fine."

She smiled, "I had just come out to look at the stars, Tom and I used to do that a lot on nights like this." She scanned the heavens as she spoke, eyes trailing along the constellations with ease. "The big dipper's out tonight, and so is Libra, the scales. You can see it right over the house."

I gazed at the grouping of stars briefly and then looked back into her face. Its appearance was thin and pointed. Her eyes sparkled as she turned her attention towards me.

We looked at each other for a long while, until the wind began to pick up. Ella shivered as the night air shrieked about her. "It's getting cold," she began, eyes turning towards the house, "I Think it's about time to call it a night."

I nodded, "I guess so."

Silence settled between us, and we both stood waiting for the other to speak.

I sighed, "Good night Ma'am." I began; turning to leave.

"Good night, Mister Cartwright," Ella whispered, and soon I could hear her dress brushing against the tall grass as she made her way back to the house.

My mind refilled with troubled thoughts, and cared not where my feet carried me. Adam Cartwright, I thought to myself bitterly, you are a fool. You had a perfectly good chance to tell her how you felt and you let it pass… Now you'll never tell her… Oh there will be tomorrow and the next day, but you'll never build up the courage. One would think you'd have no problem with expressing your love, after all you have done it how many times already? But no, you're a coward Adam Cartwright, and fool and a coward.

What was I afraid of? I had confessed my love so many times, there should be no fear. But there was. Suddenly, I figured it out, I was afraid of love. Afraid that if I told anyone how I felt, they would meet the same fate as Marta.

I truly was the Angel of Death.


	10. Hope

Here's the next chapter, read, review and enjoy!-OyNebach42

Chapter 10: Hope

I was right about that second chance never coming; I made sure it never did.

The weather grew colder, and heavy moisture clung to the air. A storm was coming. I spent long days working along side my team trying to complete the house. The labor was intensive, however, and none of my hired help knew much about wood work. Not very many men in San Francisco are builders, and even less are willing to learn. So I found myself enlisting some of the seediest, incapable, villainous scum; that the city had to offer.

I picked them up in the gutters, bodies' slaves to liquor. It took countless hours drying them out, and even longer getting them to agree on working.

Then word of my wages got around, and soon the villains were knocking on the farm house door; pleading for a job.

When I look back, the only two men I remember from that lot were Aaron and Jed Gold, a father and son. Both wore tattered grey uniforms, and both reeked of cheap whiskey. But from the moment I took them in, those two were nothing short of hard working.

And so, I and my small rag tag army of carpenters; began to shape a disemboweled shack into a livable house.

Ella did her part wonderfully, always ready with cups of cold water when we needed them, and preparing filling meals to keep our strength up. What I found most rewarding about working for Ella, however, was the grateful smile that constantly lit up her face.

As I stated before, even with all our hard days of labor, the roof wasn't repaired before the rains came.

That morning, I could feel the rain thick in the air, waiting to fall from the skies at any moment. I hurried towards Ella's, worried about how inadequate her roof would be against the upcoming storm.

Once I arrived, I noticed the only employees from my task force who'd shown up were Aaron and his son.

"Oh, howdy General Adam," the older man saluted when he saw me, "what are we workin' on today?"

I winced at the fresh whiskey smell on his breath "Aaron," I asked anxiously, "where are the other men?"

Aaron scratched his head thoughtfully nearly upsetting a beaten Calvary hat in the process. "Can't really say, General, but I'll find out." He turned to his son, "Solder, where's the rest of the brigade?"

"Don't know sir," his boy hiccupped, while hiding a half empty bottle behind him. "Haven't seen 'um since last night, sir."

Aaron sighed, "so what are we doin' to day, Adam?"

"We may not be doing anything, unless the rest of the men show up."

I was about to condemn the entire party, when suddenly, I remembered yesterday had been pay day. What a fool I was! No doubt all my workers had spent a long night in the saloons and wouldn't show up at all.

Cursing angrily to myself, I skirted a tool pile and picked up a hammer. Aaron staggered after me, restating his same question about what we would be working on. I sighed, "well, I was hopping we could patch up the roof, but the walls aren't strong enough yet." I said, showing no patience for his feeble minded state.

"Alright, boss!" the drunkard called, "well, Jed, don't just stand there like a fool none! Start workin'!"

I grabbed a handful of nails and made my way towards the back of the house. New planks lay on the ground, ready to be set into place. I was about to began work, when I noticed Ella walking my way.

"Good morning, Mister Cartwright, are you starting without coffee today?" she inquired pleasantly.

"Afraid so," I muttered while leaning a new board into its proper place. "I'm going to have to start working right now to get the roof on before the storm hits."

Ella nodded and after looking around her asked where the other men where. I told her how no one had showed up, but Jed and Aaron, and the latter were so drunk I'd be working alone.

"Oh," she exclaimed, "I guess I'd better leave you to your work then. It sounds like you'll have your hands full, Mister Cartwright!" I nodded and she left.

I worked quickly, knowing hours of day light were waning. After I had finished one wall, I discovered what had become of my two carpenters. Both were sound asleep behind the wood pile, bottles of whiskey cradled in their hands. I swore angrily to myself, replenished my nail pile, and started the next wall.

About noon, the wind started picking up, and I gritted my teeth against its chill.

"Mr. Cartwright!" Ella shouted over the wind's howl, "Do you want lunch?"

I muttered that I would eat later, eyes never leaving my work.

"It's alright if you can't fix the roof by tonight, Mister Cartwright. I can always stay at the hotel over night."

"That won't be necessary, Ma'am."

Ella was silent for a moment, and then asked "do you need any help?"

I cast her a quizzical glance, but saw she was more than willing. "Get a hammer and some nails," I told her, "and I'll show you what to do."

She said something the wind claimed, and hurried to fetch the tools.

An extra set of hands would aid me immensely. Then I glanced skyward, a multitude of grey clouds were gathering above the house. A storm was coming alright; I just hoped we could get the roof patched in time.

Ella and I continued working; together we finished the walls and managed to start on the roof before it rained.

Sweat poured down my back as I worked, and I heard Ella breathing hard, but both of us kept working. We had the roof half shingled by the time I felt the first drop. I knew it there was no way we'd have it complete before it stormed.

Quickly, I asked Ella if she had any wagon canvass.

"Yes, I think there's one in the barn," she replied, wiping her forehead with a sleeve, "why do you ask?"

"I just felt a drop of rain; the storm can't be far off." I got down and swiftly entered the barn, reemerging with a large sheet of canvass. "Here," I called and handed her the thick fabric. "We'll put this over the rest of the roof. It's not completely water proof, but it's better than nothing." Together we stretched the canvass across exposed ceiling beams, nailing it down on all sides.

"We'd better get in before it really starts coming down." I muttered, extending a hand to take her hammer.

She shuddered slightly, "I… I suppose so." I looked and her face, shocked to find it pale.

"Are you alright, Ma'am?"

Her face creased in pain, "I'm just tired."

I swung to the ground, and crossed to the house's other side to help her do the same. "Climb to the edge, and I'll get you down the rest of the way."

Stubbornly, she clung to the chimney. "I can't!"

A light drizzle began falling, I sighed, "You're not afraid are you?"

"No, it's not that… I … I …" he sides heaved rapidly, "I think the baby's coming!"

"The WHAT?!" I exclaimed, completely caught off guard.

Ella tightened her hold around the smokestack. "Oh Adam," she shrieked, "Adam get a doctor!"

"I've got to get you down first," I shouted, climbing up beside her. "You can't have a baby here! Come on!" Lightning flashed as I spoke, and the rain increased to a down pour.

Ella's hold remained true, "Adam…Adam I can't!"

"You're going to have to." I muttered turning towards the woodpile. "Aaron Gold! Jed Gold! Get yourselves over here now!" Thunder boomed loudly.

Both ran to the house and saluted sloppily. "What is it, Adam?" Aaron asked. Thank heaven he was sober.

"Ella's having a baby," I began, "and I need-"

"A baby!" he exclaimed, "why General, I didn't even know you and the Mrs.-"

I cut him off angrily, "shut up and listen… Now we have to get Ella into the house. "I turned to the younger boy, "Jed, you hurry into town and fetch a doctor!" Jed nodded and ran off, tripping over his own feet. "Aaron, I'm going to lower Ella down to you, and you best be ready to hold her when she comes."

He nodded dumbly, and I faced Ella. "Come on," I whispered, "you need to get inside Ma'am."

"Oh Adam!" She gasped, "I don't think…"

I slipped my arms around her gently, "we'll go slow."

I guided her to where Aaron was waiting, and lowered her shaking forum carefully into his arms. Then I joined them, and the older man and myself supported Ella as we led her into the house.

Just outside the door, Ella fell to the ground; her body quaking. Swiftly I picked her up and while entering the house, ordered Aaron to get some water boiling.

Laid Ella down on the bed easily, and after making her as comfortable as possible, knelt beside her.

"Adam," She whispered, "I'm sorry I never told you…" Her voice faded amongst her shallow breathing.

I clasp her hand in my own, "it's alright," I replied softly, "I'm just glad I know now. Can you imagine how it would have been if the baby came when I wasn't around?"

"I hadn't thought of that….. I just… I just thought if you knew…. It is Tom's child," She smiled weakly, "he never knew before he died…. And I thought… if I told you…"

"You thought I wouldn't love you." I finished simply, realizing what she must have been going through. Ella nodded, and closed her eyes in pain.

I stood up and asked Aaron how the hot water was coming. "Oh fine," he muttered, "once I got a fire goin'!"

"Any sign of Jed?"

"Not yet, Adam, I don't know what's keepin' that boy so long, you'd think it wouldn't take too long just to find a doctor."

I rolled up my sleeves, "I hope he comes soon, or we may have to deliver the baby ourselves."

Aaron gulped, "we?"

"Yes, we,"

He took a step back, "Mister Cartwright, I don't know about you, but the only time I was anywhere near a baby bein' born was when my wife had Jed. An' I passed out then, just 'cause the doc told me it was a boy!"

I found myself smirking, "don't worry too much, Aaron, I said 'may'."

He sighed, "Let's just hope we can keep it that way."

I was about to respond, when I felt water hitting the top of my head. I t turned out that mine and Ella's roof job hadn't been done so well. Soon the room was over crowded with pots and pans accumulating water.

"This sure is some set up," Aaron complained, "woman about to give birth, rain comin' in through the roof, storm outside…" he drew a flask from his coat, "it's enough to drive a man to drink."

I grabbed the liquor from him, "you're staying sober until that doctor gets here!"

He reviled a pipe next, "let me have a smoke then."

"You can smoke outside."

A hard frown drew across his forehead, "can I drink outside?"

"No."

"You really are a generous man, Adam Cartwright," Aaron grumbled, returning the pipe to his pocket, "You really are!"

Without answering him, I moved over to the window. What was taking that fool boy so long? I squinted through the rain streaked pane, looking for any sign of movement in the darkness. Lightning flashed briefly, and thunder sounded.

"Adam!" Ella shouted, "Adam, this is it!"

I turned just in time to see Aaron Gold faint where he stood, so much for us delivering any baby.

I ran to Ella's bedside, where he lay in a tight ball, and held her shaking hand in my own, trying to give her as much support as possible. Realizing there was nothing more that I could do, I prayed in my time of helplessness.

Just then, the door burst open.

"Adam!" Jed called, "Adam, I couldn't find no doctor!"

I faced his with blazing eyes, "you what?"

"I could find no doctor, but I got somebody else," he gestured to an old woman beside him, "she's helped lots of ladies have kids."

Thank heavens! I felt a wave of relief wash over me.

The woman glanced at Ella and exclaimed, "Looks like I came here just in time!" She crossed to the stove, and stuffed cloth into the boiling water. "You best wait outside, dear," she said to me, "and don't worry, your wife's going to be fine!"

I nodded, helped Jed lift his unconscious father, and trudged out into the rain, to wait.

What followed that ordeal was the longest hour of my life. The helpless feeling returned, and I paced before the door. Ella was in pain, her very life in danger, and there was nothing I could about it.

"Hey Adam," Jed mumbled, from where he sat on the floor trying to revive Aaron, "I know you're worried an' all, but can you stop pacin' so much? You're makin' me dizzy!"

I stopped long enough to give him a hard stare, and kept walking. The rain was letting up some, but I walked about in the mud, not caring how wet I became.

Moans and shrieks came from inside, I bit my lip fearfully.

Jed finally got his father up by giving him some whiskey; the older man rubbed his face wearily. "The doc here?" he asked his son.

"No, couldn't find no doctor-"

"Don't tell me Adam…."

"He isn't, I found a lady who could help."

Aaron nodded and noticed my pacing. "Come have a drink, Adam," He called holding out his flask, "I'm getting antsy just watchin' ya'!"

As I accepted a sip of whiskey, a shrill cry came from inside. The baby was here. Both men wished me hearty congratulations, and shrugged off my statements that it wasn't my baby.

The door opened a little later, and the old woman stuck her head out, smiling broadly. "It's a boy!" She exclaimed.

Jed caught his father as Aaron fainted again.

"How is Ella?" I asked.

The woman patted my arm gently, "don't fret dear; both your wife and son are just fine!" I smiled and she disappeared inside.

For some reason, the thought of me having a wife and son pleased me. There was no reason why I shouldn't have a family. It made sense, after all, Ella needed someone with the baby and all, but was I ready to settle down? Could I do it to Ella and the baby? Could I claim them with the very name that had brought about so many deaths?

"Your wife would like to see you now," The kind old woman's voice shattered my thoughts.

I grinned slightly, "Well Ma'am, you see I'm not really…" I began but then sighed and followed her inside.

Ella's bed had been pushed over by the stove, and she lay in it, blankets wrapped about her. She looked weak, but some color had returned to her face. "Adam!" She exclaimed.

I smiled down at her, "how's it going?"

"Fine," she replied contently.

I pulled up a chair, and sat down next to the bed.

"Did you see the baby?" She asked.

"Not yet."

"Would you like to?"

The grin returned, "Very much."

Next thing I knew, I was holding Ella's baby in my arms, studying his small scrunched face, and fingering the crown of auburn hair upon his head. "He looks a lot like this mother."

Ella agreed, "He does."

Once the baby was returned to his mother's side, the old woman wrapped her shawl about her. "I'll be going back to town presently. You can take care of things here, can't you, young man?"

After a moment, I figured out she was addressing me. "We'll be fine." I assured her.

She said something about stopping by tomorrow, took her bag in hand, and left.

An uneasy silence settled between Ella and myself, neither of us knew how to express the thoughts going through our minds. Rain lashed against the windows, and dripped from the roof into waiting vessels.

The baby began crying, tiny fist writhing in mid air. A smile came to Ella's face, as she drew her son closer to her, "he's hungry."

"I should think so," I mumbled eyes resting upon my hands, "the way he's carrying on."

Silence returned for a long while. I felt my thoughts torn two ways.

Ella sighed, "I'm worried," she whispered, "about raising a child alone."

I raised my eyes, all at once noticing how beautiful she really was. It's amazing what her spectacles were able to hide, now I saw eyes of the palest green, and her face perfectly formed.

I drew a deep breath, "I don't think you'll have to worry anymore." She began saying something, but I continued. "Ma'am, almost since our first meeting, I've been feeling a certain way about you, but before I said anything, I wanted to know if you felt the same about me. Mrs. Hunter," I asked simply, "do you have feelings for me?" I clasp her hand as I finished.

Ella's face shone, "do you know something, Mister Cartwright, I think I do." Her hand squeezed my own.

I bent down and kissed her gently. And in that one kiss I found the peace of mind that I had been looking for. Hope, a new beginning…. I had come home.

I spent a long sleepless night, sitting before a piece of paper and writing a letter to my father. I wanted to tell him about all that had happened, how fortune had saved me from death. How the woman I would soon call my wife needed me, and about my new son. But when I began putting all these thoughts on paper, I found I could not.

With a shaking hand, I wrote of how I would not be returning to the Ponderosa. I would be staying in San Francisco longer than planned, I was thinking about clipper ships. I signed the letter hurriedly, glanced at Ella's sleeping form and smiled.

That night I became an angel of blessing.


	11. Satan's Return

School's starting up, so it may take me longer to update… Sorry! I will try to write more whenever I can! A while ago, I was looking through the bible (Torah, for everyone out there who's Jewish like me : ) ) and found verses that mirrored some of my chapters, so I will start putting them in. Read, review and enjoy!-OyNebach42

_It happened one day: The angels came before G-d and the Satan too, came among then to stand before G-d. G-d said to the Satan, "from were have you come?" And the Satan answered G-d, and said "from wandering about the earth" G-d asked the Satan, "did you set your heart to (take note of) My servant Job? For there is no one like him on earth; a wholesome and upright man, who fears G-d and shuns evil, and he still maintains his wholesomeness. You incited me against him, to destroy him, for no reason!" The Satan answered G-d and said "skin for the sake of skin! Whatever a man has he would give up for his life! But send forth Your hand and touch his bone and his flesh and surely he will blaspheme You to Your face!" G-d said to the Satan, "behold he is in your hand, but preserve his soul (from Death)!" _

_(Job 2:1-6)_

Chapter 11: Satan's Return

A few weeks later found me and Ella riding in a wagon town bound. It was too cold to take the baby out, so we had left him at home with a care giver watching him.

The baby still had no name; we couldn't seem to decide on one really. Ella wanted him named after a brother of hers, but I found the name James not to my liking. As we traveled I went over some other ideas.

"Why not Tomas?" I asked, watching Ella from the corner of my eye.

She sat for a moment in silence and shook her head, "no."

"Why not?"

Ella stared blankly before her, "Adam," she sighed, "Tomas wasn't the best man." I started to speak but she continued, "He was a course man… Arrogant and hard tempered."

"Ella, you never-"

She nodded, "I never said anything against him, and I never complained… Because he would marry me. I was so worried about becoming an old maid all my life, that once Tom asked me, I agreed… After we were married, he spent all his time in town, drinking. That's why the farm never got finished; he was never around to help with it. And we kept on living that way for a while, until he left me."

The wagon had been halted by now, and Ella's hand was in my own, but he eyes gazed forward.

She drew a shaky breath, "he headed off… Without a word, and three days later, the sheriff found his body just off shore." Ella looked down at our clasp hands. "You're a much better man, Adam, a much better man."

I started up the horses, Ella's words echoing in my mind. Was I a better man? Granit, I'd never mistreated a woman, or drank, but I had stood by helpless as innocent people died. I was not a miracle worker, nor did luck impress me. Although sometimes, I think, that whomever I come in contact with has their lives drastically shortened.

How many people had I seen die? How many souls had left those cradled in my arms? How many had the Angel Of Death murdered?

Too many.

And yet here I was, on my way into town to get married. For what? Just to become a widower?

I glanced at Ella, alone in her own thoughts. It must be hard for her, to be alone in the world.

A realization came to me then that was so ironic, I nearly smiled. I wondered if Ella saw herself as the Angel of Death. She turned to me then, eyes clouded with despair, a look which mirrored my own. I chuckled, and Ella's sadness turned to hurt.

"Adam," she asked, "what is it?"

I smiled at her, "us, here we are, on our wedding day, the happiest day of our lives, and we're both just fretting about the past!"

"I see you're point," Ella gave a small smile, "it really doesn't make sense for us to be worried about old times when a new life is beginning for the both of us."

I put an arm around my wife to be. "That's the spirit!"

Yes that was the right state of mind to be in, a new horizon would soon be upon us, a new chance for life. This time, I would make sure I did not become the Angel of Death, I would do every thing within my power to protect those around me. I would not be driven to grief again. The age of death had ended, and one of peace just begun.

/

After that day, Ella became Mrs. Adam Cartwright, and the baby was name James Hunter Cartwright despite Ella's protests. I though it was important for the boy and the town in general to know who his father truly was.

I began thinking about a lively hood, I knew I had enough money in the bank to live out a generous life. But like Pa, I wanted something I could leave to my family after I was gone, something to insure my offspring a decent life. I decided on cattle ranching.

One night, I sat at my desk making calculations for a cattle drive. I figured about ten head would be a good start. It's funny, looking back now and seeing how much time I spent planning a drive which would never take place. Then I knew nothing, however, so I worked.

A metallic clang came from the stove. "Adam," Ella called, "dinner's ready!"

I muttered something in response, my mind lost in equations. Franticly, I scribbled on the paper before me, estimating distance and time.

Delicate hands rested on my shoulders. "what are you working on now?" my wife asked, kissing me lightly.

"Nothing much," I sighed, while twisting in my chair, "what do you think about going into the cattle business?"

She smiled, "I think that would be fine." Our lips touched again. "Are you going to get the cattle from your father's ranch?"

"That's what I'd planned on, we wouldn't need that many, just about ten head."

Ella nodded, "I'd like that, I've been wanting to meet your family."

"I'm sure they'd love to meet my pretty wife too." I called, picturing the looks I'd get from my family after they knew I'd married.

My shoulders were caressed, "the soup's getting cold." My wife observed, and headed to the table.

Slowly, I got to my feet, and started to follow her. Before I had gotten far, however, a load banging shook the door.

"Who could it be at this hour?" Ella wondered.

I shrugged and took a glance out the window. "Some old bum," I fumed, "obviously, the Golds are still spreading word about the farm work."

"But that was finished over two weeks ago!"

"A drunk man isn't so careful about dates. I'd better send this one along."

If only I knew then what I do now, I wouldn't have opened that door, but sadly I did.

An old tramp stood just outside of it. He was on the shorter side and tilted his head back to look me in the face. "Your name Cartwright?" he asked from beneath a mess of tangled blonde hair.

"Yes sir," I muttered, "can I help you?"

He scratched a stomach swollen from liquor, "yeah, you can help me. I'm looking for-"

I cut him off, "we don't need any more workers." I began closing the door.

The bun stuck his foot over the threshold. "I ain't looking for work," he announced, yellow teeth snapping, "I'm looking for my wife."

I started at him blankly, "I don't think I can help you."

He laughed loud and long, "well let me help you understand, friend. My name's Tom, Tom Hunter."

I heard a clatter of dishes, and turned to see Ella frozen in shock. "Tom?" she asked in a frightened whisper.

The bum snickered again, "well gal, I'm glad to see you've been waiting for me." He turned towards me, "I just never expected you'd have company."

"Listen," I hissed, "I don't know who you are, but I think you should know that the man you're impersonating is dead."

A wide grin split Tom's face, "dead? I ain't dead."

"But that can't be," Ella muttered joining me, "the sheriff found your body three days after you left."

"Nobody's found my body, gal, I'm still kickin' yet. I see you ain't doin' so bad yourself, already got another man. '

Ella flared in anger, "Tomas Hunter you left me almost a year ago and didn't bother to send one word that you were still alive! You abandoned me Tom, and as far as I see it, you died one you started drinking!"

"Still good at sassin' I see, well, we'll just see how good you are once I take you down a peg!" Tom roared threateningly.

He was looking down the barrel of a shotgun a second later. I pulled back the hammer easily, "if you know what's good for Hunter, you'll get of my property."

"Your property! Who do you think owns this house? Do you know who bought this land?' The bum exclaimed, belly shaking. "Do you know whose woman you have?"

"Yes," I replied, tone hardening, "I own it all. I found an abandoned house, and a woman at near death… Everything here is mine."

Tom frowned, "you ain't found nothing, a thief, that's what you are!"

"Fine," I replied thrusting my gun into his face, "I'm a thief, not only that but I'm an outlaw. I'm not afraid to pull this trigger, and if I ever see you near my wife or son, I will."

"What son?" Hunter shouted, "you mean you've been with my wife before I even left?!"

The gun advanced until it was an inch before his nose. "I said leave!"

I watched Tom back away slowly, muttering curses as he went. "You'll see Cartwright! You're gonna live to regret the day you ever touched Tom Hunter's wife! You're gonna be sorry you didn't kill me when you had the chance!"

I leveled the gun with his head, "Oh, I've still got that chance, Mr. Hunter." Only when I put a few warning shots over his head, did Hunter leave. I watched him until he went out of my line of sight and closed the door.

"You were right," I said to Ella, "that man's a beast."

"Beast is to gentle a term," Ella raged as she returned to the soup, dishing it up absently. "Evil heartless creature! Leaves his wife, and comes back a year later angry at her for moving on!"

I latched the door, "don't worry, I think we've seen the last of him."

"You don't know Tom, Adam. Oh, why didn't the darn fool just drowned himself!" She sent a portion of food clattering across the table.

I drew up behind her, placing a hand upon each shoulder.

"Oh, Adam," She cried burring her head in my shirt, "this is terrible!"

Reassuringly, I wrapped my arms about her. "What's so terrible about it?" I asked, "you heard what I told Hunter, there's nothing to worry about."

"Isn't there?" Ella sobbed, "Adam, I'm married to two men!"

I held her at arms length, and looked into her tear streaked face. "Ella, You said Tomas Hunter died the day he started drinking, that he was course brute of a man… A man like that doesn't deserve to call you wife."

"I wasn't thinking about us, Adam, I was thinking about Jamie, I'm afraid Tom may go to the law."

As if on cue, the baby raised his voice from his bed, but for once, his wails were ignored.

"I don't care if Hunter does go to the law, there's nothing he can say that would let then take a baby from a supportive family and give it to a man like him." I wiped a few tears from Ella's face and forced a smile, "everything will be alright."

We kissed before comforting Jamie, and sitting down to a late diner of cold soup.

I wasn't the first time I'd lied.


	12. Warnings

Sorry it's taken forever to get another chapter up; I've really been working on this one. Hope you all like it! Read, review and Enjoy!-OyNebach42

Chapter 12: Warnings

For a while, my life continued normally. Tom didn't show, and just encase he did, a loaded shotgun was always by my side.

Jamie grew by leaps and bounds. It's amazing how fast children grow, one day they can't keep awake for long, and the next their sitting up.

I spent some of my time each day just holding Jamie and thinking. I had a great deal to consider back then, starting a ranch and raising a family… I try not to think so much anymore, because thinking only reminds me of my sorrows.

If I could only go back and fix all the problems I've caused, I ask G-d to let me return to that happier time, ever for just a moment. I would ask for no more.

But I squandered my time then doing foolish things, seeing to that never accruing cattle drive, working on the barn, and going into town for supplies. When I should have been seeing to the most important things in my life, Ella and Jamie, and getting around to writing Pa, but I kept putting that off as well.

And then one night, Tomas Hunter stumbled upon my land again, saying he'd sent the law after me. He wanted to taste some lead, but unfortunately I never let him.

I told him his claims would never hold up in court, that he'd be better off just tramping on. Tom Hunter only laughed.

"Oh, the court will listen to me alright!" he called from outside, "they'll listen to me real well; you're the one they won't turn an ear to!"

I brought my rifle to my eye and cocked it, "if you don't leave my property now, Hunter, nobody's going to be able to listen to you."

He chuckled to himself some more, and left.

I lowered my weapon, "fool," I muttered gazing out into the darkness.

"No Adam," Ella whispered beside me, "he's not nearly the fool we wish he'd be."

"Just failing his mouth," I argued, noticing her pale worried face.

She shook her head simply, if anyone should know what Tom was capable of, it was Ella. "He'll go to the law, but once he sees they can't help him, he'll try something Adam. A man like him won't be satisfied until he has what he wants."

I took her in my arms, "he'll be packed full of lead if he ever tries anything."

"I hope so." She sighed.

"As long as I'm here," I promised, "Tomas Hunter will have a lot to reckon with."

We kissed, the then got back into bed. I lay down, and watched as Ella took off her dressing gown and slipped into bed next to me.

"I think I'll go see the sheriff tomorrow."

My wife rested her head upon my shoulder. "We should let him know about Tom."

"He might be able to do something," I muttered stretching out my good hand to dim the light.

"G-d willing," Ella whispered, and the night was still.

////////////////////////////////

I went into town the next morning, after making sure that Aaron Gold was around incase Ella would need something.

San Francisco was just as crowed as ever, I had to navigate through gangs of sailors and pleasure seekers to reach the sheriff's office.

I paused at the door, and glanced over some wanted posters. Only the men worth the most money had their's outside, I thought maybe Tomas Hunter's picture would be there but it was not.

Sighing, I pushed my way into the office. A larger one I have yet to see, this one was easily the size of the Ponderosa's ground floor. The walls were covered in newspaper clippings and drawings outlaws. A few desk were scattered about the room, one of which the Sheriff sat behind, his deputies stood before him, flanking a convicted man.

"I tell you sheriff," the man was saying, "I didn't do it!"

The officer looked at him, brow furrowed, "heck you didn't boy!"

"But I couldn't have! I weren't even in town!"

"Then were where you?' roared the sheriff.

"I weren't in town, 'cause I was helping' with Widow Hunter's house."

I shot a surprised glance towards the accused.

"Jed?" I asked.

The youth twisted his neck to see me. "Adam!" He shouted, "Boy howdy, am I ever glad to see you!" He faced the sheriff again, "you just ask Adam Cartwright, sheriff, he'll tell you where I was!"

The sheriff placed his blazing eyes on me, "alright Mr. Cartwright, where was he last Sunday?"

"He was at Ella Hunter's just like he said he was," I replied, holding the fiery gaze, "what's he been accused of?"

He glanced at a few papers before him, "mostly disturbing the peace. Witnesses say he came into town Sunday night and started raising chain, raving about a doctor, almost got into a fight, and ran off with some whiskey bottles."

"I know the facts concerning the doctor to be true." I announced, watching Jed's worried expression, "On Sunday night, Mrs. Ella Hunter went into labor. I sent the boy for a doctor, and yes, he was a little drunk, but he was the only one who could be spared at the time." I stared at Jed sternly, "now, I don't know anything about whiskey bottles, but if the boy took them, I'll pay the expenses."

The sheriff grunted, "Well, have it your way! You wanna waste money bailing out drunken kids, that's your own business. Turn him lose boys."

Both deputies let their prisoner go simultaneously. He grinned at me, "Thanks a lot Adam! But don't you think I should help pay some… I got money-"

I cut him off briskly, "don't worry about it Jed, if you want to repay me, go over to the farm and help your father keep an eye on things."

The youth nodded over his shoulder, already half gone.

While standing up slowly, the Sheriff asked his assistants to leave, once they did, he gave me a hard frown.

"Are you the fetter who married Ella Hunter?"

I regarded him cautiously, "why should that entrust you?"

He crossed his arms, "a man named Tomas Hunter's been down here, and I promised I'd look into some things for him. How long have you known Mrs. Hunter?"

"Long enough," I replied inhaling deeply, "is that the answer Mr. Hunter wants to hear?"

"Listen, all I know is there's some controversy going around about this baby-"

I gripped my gun belt, "it can keep going around for all I care! Do you recall, Sheriff, how long ago I entered you're town?"

"About three months ago now,"

I nodded, "and when I came, Ella Hunter was already with child, was she not?"

"Yeah,"

"There where's the problem?"

The sheriff drew himself up, "listen Mac, just because you come into town three months ago doesn't mean you haven't been by the Hunter's place before."

"In some ways," I muttered slowly, "that child's more mine than his."

Narrowing his eyes, the law man replied, "That's up to the court to decide, you see; right now we got ourselves a little problem in town. We got one woman who's legally married to two men, and goes against the law."

"A death certificate you yourself signed proves otherwise, Sheriff. As far as Ella and I are concerned, our marriage was completely legitimate. Her husband left her, a few days later his body was found, I married a widow. Only now it turns out she's not a widow, now it turns out her husband abandoned her, and only returned upon hearing of her remarriage. A man like that has no business raising a child."

The Sheriff shrugged, "let me tell you something, Cartwright, I was a friend of your father's for many years. I know where you're coming from being a rich, ranch owner in a place where everyone worships every word you say… Well listen to this son, this isn't Virginia City. Nobody gives a darn about some Cartwright name, especially me. Any man with your name doesn't deserve a child."

"My father said you were an old friend of his," I muttered thoughtfully, "I suppose 'were' is they key to that statement."

The Sheriff grinned, "It sure is."

I glanced at several wanted posters spattered across the wall. "This is a big town you're in charge of, Sheriff, you have plenty of bank robbers and murderers to worry about, but something tells me you're always going to have time when it comes to matters regarding myself."

His smile widened, "you can bet on that, Cartwright."

"Then I believe the mater for which I came has cleared itself," I announced while going to the door, "good afternoon, Sheriff."

The tin badge on his chest gleamed, "it sure is, boy, it sure is."

I nearly collided with Jed as I came outside. "I thought I told you to go help your Pa with the farm."

He studied me with a rare somber face, "Mr. Cartwright," he muttered, "I do believe you're about to be in a considerable mite of trouble."

"I assumed as much," I untied my horse's reigns, "the law's got its own personal vendetta against me."

Quickly, Jed moved to my side, "I weren't talkin' 'bout the sheriff none, while you were talkin' I went over to the saloon…" he stroked the horse's muzzle, "and Hunter was there."

I put one leg in the stirrup, and started mounting, a rough hand on my shoulder stopped me from completing the action.

Jed looked at me with wild eyes, "he weren't just failin' his mouth none, he's done that before and I don't pay him much mind. But this time he was talkin' with Slade Johnson over in the back room."

"Slade Johnson?" I wondered, the name sounded vaguely familiar.

Jed pointed to one of the wanted posters, "Slade Johnson, wanted just about everywhere for murder. Has a thousand on his head, it's a powerful sum of money, Mr. Cartwright, lots of folks have tried gettin' it, but ain't one of 'um done it yet."

I swung up on my horse. "Come on, Jed, if a man like Slade's running around we best get back as soon as possible, you got a horse?"

"No sir, I walk places mostly."

"Well you better run to the farm."

He saluted, "yes sir!"

I shook my head, turning onto the busy street. If what Jed said was true, we didn't have time for formalities.

My horse galloped back to the farm, as I urged him on with kicks. I highly doubt that Slade could have gone faster, but just knowing that there were men like him around, sympathizing with Hunter, set me on edge.

Soon I could see my house from afar, nothing looked amiss, but still dread rose in my heart. Only when Ella answered the door with a smiling face was I calmed and then only for a moment.

"Adam, what happened?"

I brushed past her and let my eyes scan the room, except for a well laden dinner table, it was empty. "Did Tomas stop by here?"

"No," Ella replied still puzzled, "should've he?"

I took off my hat and jacket, but left on my gun holster purposefully. The shotgun left its place above the door, hung loosely by my knees.

My wife watched me, and then muttered, "I waited supper for you."

I nodded in acknowledgment, "is Gold around here?"

"He's out back."

Quickly, I made my way outside and found Aaron Gold right where I'd expected him, behind the wood pile drinking.

"Oh, hey there, Adam," he called, shoving the bottle behind his back, "how'd your talk with the sheriff go?"

I bent down stiffly beside him. "I see you've been staying alert while I've been gone."

He frowned, "heck Adam, I ain't started drinkin' till I heard your horse comin'."

"How'd you know it was my horse?"

Breaking out into a grin, he asked, "Whose else would it be?"

"I'm serious! We have enemies, you need to stay on your guard, especially when I'm in town, and not relax until you SEE me return."

Grunting in agreement, Aaron uncorked the bottle. "I take it things didn't go so well in town."

"They didn't," I replied bluntly, "the sheriff here seems to have something against me."

The drunk chuckled, "shucks Adam, it ain't just you, a day don't go by that he doesn't call me in for one offence or the other. Just a right down cranky varmit, that's all the Sheriff is."

"It's a wonder he's still in office."

"Ain't no wonder," Aaron observed, "a whole lot of folks in San Francisco don't care much about the law anymore…. He does his job sometimes, an' we can say we got a sheriff. That' his problem, he's too light on the murderers, and too hard on us fellers who just like to drink some."

"I think you should add something to that last list, Cartwrights, once he heard my name it was all over."

"Wonder how come that is."

I shrugged, "that's the way it is with most people; they either love us, or hate us."

"Same with me and Jed," he agreed while slapping my shoulder, "heck I wouldn't be surprised if it turned out you and me were kin!"

I shook my head, "speaking of which, I saw Jed in town, he came out of the saloon to tell me a man called Slade Johnson was there," I paused long enough to see Aaron flinch. "And he was having a chat with Hunter."

"This is bad, Adam." Gold said corking his bottle, "heaven knows this is the worst that could happen. . . . Let's hope they was just talkin'!"

"I highly doubt that," I muttered darkly, "I don't think folks talk much to a man like Slade."

We were both silent for a moment and then the older man asked quietly, "does the Mrs. know?" I shook my head. "Maybe best," he continued, "if she don't, it would just put another worry in her mind."

Sighing, I stood up. "It would be simpler that way, Aaron, but she has a right to know."

"That what? You got a man gunnin' for ya? Trust me, Adam when I say it ain't the way to do things-"

"She'll be more on her guard, " I turned towards the house, "that's what I need her to be." Aaron made no response. "Would you like to stay to supper?" I asked.

Gold leapt to his feet, "sure would, long as the Mrs. don't mind. I ain't ate nothin' since last night."

I slapped his shoulder, "don't worry, we should have plenty."

Upon opening the door, I discovered Aaron wasn't the only one invited to dinner. Jed was already at the table filling his plate.

"Howdy Pa," he called, "Mr. Cartwright, hope ya'll don't mind me not waitin'."

Aaron frowned, "mind you not waitin'? H'ain't you got respect for you elders?"

"Sure I do, Pa, and I woulda' waited too, but the Mrs. told be to go ahead."

Quickly, Aaron turned to Ella, "oh, well, that's another matter entirely. Evenin' Ma'am," he tipped his hat, "hope you don't mind, but your husband invited me to eat with y'all."

Ella consented, and so all of us sat down to a meal fit fro kings. I say it was fit for kings, southern kings I suppose. It consisted of fired chicken, corn bread, and red eyed gravy with some cool tea to wash it down.

I enjoy cold tea very much, Ella was right, out west there's no other way to have it.

Once we'd finished eating, I showed our guest to the door, and reminded both in a whisper to keep alert.

"We sure will," Aaron mumbled into his hand. Jed gave me a knowing wink, and after saying good night they slipped out into the night.

The door shut softly, and I sat down my rifle beside it. There would be dark times ahead; one could feel it in the air.

My wife was silent as she cleared the table; I could tell from her quick forceful movements that she was upset. She knew, somehow Ella knew what had transpired in town.

I made a beeline for the table, but changed course when I saw Jamie. He must have been awake for a while; he lay on his back, wide eyed gaze boring through the ceiling.

I stood looking down at him for a moment, until he noticed me and his face broke out into a wide toothless grin.

Smiling, I sat down beside him, and placed a palm upon his small stomach. He gurgled happily, hands clasping my fingers.

"Well boy," I asked, "what do you think of all this?" He babbled softly, my grin deepened. "I was thinking the same."

The feel of small hands upon my own was soothing, and the soaking I received from his mouth even less so. _Adam Cartwright, _I told myself, _you are a father. _I didn't try to hide the glow of pride which lit my face each time I realized that fact anew.

_That's right, _my pessimistic side easily chimed in, _you're a father, a father to child who's not even truly yours. Tomas Hunter fathered this baby. But Jamie's still yours, there's not mistake about that. Why? Because you love him? Because you think you can give him something that Tom Hunter can't, or was it because Jamie's mother was your wife? That was the reason. Ella Hunter was now Ella Cartwright, and her son, yours. It's sorry to say, Adam, that this small merger thing is what you call a family. _

_Is it really worth it then? Would you have yourself killed trying to protect this willowy figured woman, and scrany baby born of the man you dispise, would you? _

_Yes Adam, yes you would, you would lay down your life just to try and keep them from harm. Because you were that kind of man. _

Jamie's gums kneaded my fingers, and his eyes shown up at me. The smile returned to my face. I was a father.

"The sheriff didn't understand, did he?"

I studied Ella's worried face over my shoulder. "No, he didn't I shouldn't have even talked to him."

My wife sighed and tried to grin, "well, you were meant to. Everything that happens is G-d's will."

"He seems to be favoring Hunter right now."

Ella nodded, "it does seem that way."

"And it seems like we're going to have a pretty hard time of it… Why?"

I know we should not judge G-d, and I know it is heathenish to question His ways, but I have always wondered why it is that the good must suffer and the evil go unpunished. Why have I been given this life of grief?"

"I don't know why G-d does what He does, Adam, no one does we can just do our best and hope."

I frowned, "I know, it's just the sheriff isn't the worst of our troubles, Hunter was having a conversation in the saloon with a gunman."

"Oh Adam, you don't think…"

"I'm not sure, but until I know otherwise we're going to have to do things a little differently. Wherever we go, a loaded gun is going with us, Aaron and Jed are staying in the barn, and hopefully one of them will keep watch tonight. We always have to have someone on guard… No one care travel alone and I don't plan on going into town anytime soon. If that hired gun wants me dead, he's going to have a hard time doing it." I stood up as I spoke, and began putting on my coat.

Ella watched me closely, "I thought you said you weren't going to town."

"I'm not," I replied buttoning my coat. "But I am going to the barn, if that gun man does come by, there's no reason for you to be put in danger. If someone ask for me, tell them where I am."

"You're staying here." Ella called, "Adam, you know I would rather die than go back with Tom, there's no life with him for me or Jamie." Her expression softened as she smiled, "our lives are bound together with yours, Adam."

I looked at her, woman of valor, willing to give up all she held dear for me, I wasn't worth all that. I looked at Jamie where he lay upon the bed. My son, who's future rested in my hands.

And I would protect them, I would have to be tutored and maimed before I let anyone harm them. I started to take off my coat, but stopped and caught Ella in my arms. I couldn't ask for a better wife.


	13. Destruction

Chapter 13 everyone. I would like to thank Fe for reviewing, and apologize because I have no say in the plot anymore… This chapter was already written before I started typing it. Sorry. –OyNebach42

"_Who would grant that my request be realized, that G-d would grant my hope, and G-d would be willing to crush me, to let loose His hand and cut me off. Moreover, that would be my consolation! I tremble with the plea that He show no mercy"_

_(Job 6: 8-11) _

Chapter 13: Destruction

"It ain't gonna happen tonight," Aaron muttered, "it ain't gonna happen any night 'cause Hunter and Slade were just talkin'."

I looked at him from the opposite side of the porch, "maybe not, but it can't hurt any to be cautious."

He sighed, "Guess you're right."

We lapsed back into silence, a rough gale ripped around us. I pulled the collar of my jacket higher. It had been this way for two weeks now, sitting up nights, waiting and nothing had happened. Not that I wished we would be attacked, but I wanted a sure sign that we wouldn't be.

"You reckon it's 'bout midnight yet?"

The night sky stood black against the full moon.

"Yeah," I agreed, "it might be time to get Jed up."

Aaron stood up stiffly, and rested his gun in the crock of his arm. "Well, night Adam."

"Good night, Aaron."

He grunted, 'I didn't say it was good none, all I said was night."

I smiled weakly, "have it your way then, 'night' Aaron."

"It sure is," the older man muttered heading for the barn.

Once he was out of sight, I leaned rifle on my knee, and ran a hand over my face. My body ached for rest. For two weeks I had done nothing but ache and not just at night but during the day as well. Every moment was accompanied by a sharp pain in my skull.

Ever since that night when Tomas Hunter came banging at my door I didn't sleep. I dozed at times, but my rests were light and easily broken.

Jed came up, rubbing his eyes and yawning. "Hey Adam," he sat beside me, "sure is late ain't it?"

"Just around midnight," I heard weariness in my own voice, and raised a hand to my face.

"Heck," the boy breathed, "it never seems this late in town, guess I'm so busy there I ain't still long enough to get tired. But man! I could drop off right now!"

I made no reply, but I could feel Jed's eyes resting upon me. "You look real bad, I can handle keepin' guard, why don't you go in and have a rest?"

"No," I shook my head, "no, I'm fine."

Jed persisted, "no you ain't, Adam! I know you're worried 'bout lettin' you guard down an' all, but you ain't gonna be no help to anybody the way you are now."

I saw his point, "maybe I will go and lie down for a little while, but you keep a good eye out and get me up the second you see something."

"Sure will." Jed promised.

I patted his shoulder, "you're a good boy, Jed."

"Oh, that reminds me," he stuck a hand into his shirt and pulled out a flask. "Pa said you may wanna use some a' this, just to relax a bit."

Cautiously, I gazed at the liquor and then at the man who was offering it.

"It wouldn't take much," Jed continued, "just a swallow or two."

"Maybe it will have a little," I muttered, slowly accepting the flask. "But you get me up at four, understand?"

The boy chuckled, " don't worry 'bout that none, Adam, the way I feel right now I just might get you up a little early!"

Nodding, I went into the house. Thick, silent darkness greeted me. Ella lay on her side, sleeping peacefully, and Jamie wiggled quietly in his crib.

I left the gun by the door, and quickly took off my hat and jacket. Keeping the whiskey flask in my hand, I sat on the bed's edge. Wearily, I removed my boots and slipped beneath the heavy winter blankets. Warmth surrounded my legs. I drank the whiskey then, taking large gulps until a calming warm spread over me.

Only then did I allow myself to sink back against the pillow. Ella lay beside me, her eyes closed in peaceful slumber.

I reached out a hand and gently stroked her face, she stirred under my touch and I regretted waking her.

"Adam," she mumbled, still half asleep, "you're so cold."

"Yeah," I whispered, "it's cold outside."

Her eyes opened as she smiled, "do you want me to warm you up?" Without waiting for my answer, Ella snuggled against my chest. I spread my arms around her, and placed my head upon hers.

"Good night, Adam." She sighed, her breathing growing deep.

Immersed in warmth, I breathed in Ella's sweat smelling hair and licked the last of the whiskey from my lips. "Good night, Ella," I let my eyes close. "I love you."

I had a dream that night, a dream of whose meaning I am only too aware. I stood in a graveyard watching a casket being lowered into the ground. A black casket accented wit silver. Marta.

Dread soaked into my body, she was dead. My love was dead.

Then quietly, as if it were coming from afar, I heard a voice, "Adam." The wind shrieked about me angrily. I was blown against my will to the edge of the grave.

Just remembering what was inside of it makes me ill. A skeleton sat upon the coffin, with a wedding dress wrapped around it, and its skinless face grinning. "Adam," it whispered, "come to me."

I drew back, but the skeleton only laughed.

"Are you yet still afraid of death, my love?"

"Marta?"

She chuckled, "yes it is me, come to me, Adam."

I slid down to her side. She looked at me with black empty sockets. "You don't know how long I've longed to be held in your arm again… To be with you…" She took my hand in her boney palm. I winced at the cold chill which ran up my arm and she lowered her head.

"Am I really that repulsive to you, Adam?" She asked, reluctantly releasing my hand. I did not reply, so she continued, "Death is not beautiful Adam, when you join me, you will see. We do not look like we did on earth, nor can we do the things that we once did… But we have something here, something which you have been searching for nearly all you life. Peace is here, Adam, peace from the living world."

I looked at her with envious eyes. She stood effortlessly, bones creaking as she rose.

"Take me in your arms, Adam," she begged. "Of all my longings the one I feel for you is strongest."

I drew her into my arms, hugging her bones to my chest. Cold, weightless arms knotted themselves around my neck.

"Adam," she whispered, "I love you, I only regret that I have no lips to kiss you, but please kiss me Adam! I wish for nothing more!"

I kissed her, as I touched her uncovered mouth I felt a cold grip pass over my face, sticking her to me. I tried to pull away from her, but found I could not.

Marta's clammy hands caressed my face. She rubbed it harder and harder, nails gripping my skin.

I could feel my face split; I could feel the chunks of fleshing being ripped from my skull. Then Marta released me, blood and muscle covering her hands.

"Now," she hissed, "now, we are alike."

I raised a hand to my face, shocked to find nothing but cold bone.

"Yes, we are alike; I finally have you to myself."

I stared at her blankly, "It's not that simple anymore, Marta, I have others to think about besides myself."

She dropped the flesh in her hands, "so it is true, you have forgotten me." The whisper came from between her teeth, "you have moved on."

"Yes," I replied, "I have."

Marta looked at the ground again. "I had hoped tonight would be our wedding night…" She trailed off, and raised her face. "Oh please stay with me, Adam!" she pleaded "I'm so lonesome!"

I shook my head, "I have to go back."

She covered her face with her palms, and sighed. "Adam, please don't go! I've been trying and trying to get you to stay without telling you-"

"Telling me what?"

"I won't be able to come to you again; next time we meet you will be the one in the grave. But it will not be for a while; it will not be without suffering." Marta paused, and I could see water flowing down her cheek bones. "Ella and Jamie will die tonight."

I grasped he by the shoulders roughly, "your wife and son will die," she told me, adverting my gaze; "Slade Johnson will kill them."

"I've got to go back then; I may be able to help them!"

"It is too late," she sobbed, "the baby's wailing, glass is breaking, fire… Adam, don't make me send you back there!"

"Please Marta," I looked her in the face, "please do it if you love me."

She nodded, tilted her head back, and let forth a blood culturing scream.

My eyes leapt open, but they met nothing but the dark ceiling above. I surveyed my surroundings quickly, Ella was still by my side and Jamie's first struck the air above his cradle.

The night was still.

But my heart did not stop racing.

I got out of bed and stumbled towards the door. It stood in its normal position. I opened the door and made sure Jed was still at his post.

He was barely awake; his head slumped to his knees.

"Jed," I whispered, "Jed wake up."

The boy jumped to his feet and trusted his gun at my chest. "Hold it right- Oh, hey Adam," the weapon went limp in his hands, "I thought you were sleepin'."

I was about to tell him to never mind and that I would take over the rest of the watch, but the sound of horse's hooves made me stop.

Jed squinted through the darkness as the noise grew loader. "Can't see nothing," he hissed, "black horse and rider, that's a sign of Slade's gang if I ever saw one!"

A thin outline of a mounted man was barely visible against the darkness like shadow upon shadow.

"Go and get your Pa," I ordered, "we'll hold them off as long as we can."

"Don't think I'll be able to make it," he whispered nudging his head towards the barn. A few dark shapes loomed before the large building, darting back and forth.

"Let's get inside quick," Jed suggested, "Pa can take care a his self."

Soon the door was bolted behind us. I went to the bed and woke Ella.

'Adam," she breathed, "what's wrong?"

"Slade Johnson's here."

She rose, drawing her dressing gown about her, and picked Jamie up from his crib.

I pushed the bed against the far wall and ordered both her and Jamie under it.

'I'll put Jamie under the bed," Ella said, "but I'm going to help you."

"No," I shifted the rifle in my hands, "I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Get under that bed with Jamie where it's safe."

Ella started to protest, but the wild look on my face must of have convinced her, because she held the baby close, and obediently went to her assigned place.

I joined Jed by the window, but he kept his attention focused outside.

"Any movement?" I asked.

Jed nodded, "plenty of that, riders goin' back and forth like anythin'. I counted at least seven but there's a lot more. Ain't tried nothin' yet, they could be just scouting."

"I don't think so," I pointed into the darkness, "see that rider keeps moving past the woodpile they're planning something alright." They were planning something, and their numbers began to decrease rapidly, until only two still circled the house.

Jed lifted the rifle to his eyes, "sure do wish we could just pick one of those off…"

Regretfully, I grabbed the end of his gun. "Wait,"

The men rode to the front of the house and dismounted. After wrapping the reigns around a hitching post, they walked up to the door.

One of the men staggered blindly, I recognized him immediately. "Hunter."

Jed grunted, "The other one's Slade."

Slade Johnson, I studied the outlaw as his tall thin frame swaggered across the porch. Twin revolvers hung at his sides, and spurs jingled from the ends of his boots.

"Cartwright!" Tom shouted, fists pounding the door. "Cartwright I wanna' talk to ya!"

Whispering for Jed to cover me, I unlatched the door and swung it open with the shotgun still in my hands. "What do you want, Hunter?"

His smile lit up the darkness, "I want my son."

"I want a lot of thing too," I replied, "but mostly, I want you off my land."

Tom remained optimistic, "I'm takin' my boy with me tonight."

"I don't think the law would agree with you there."

He snorted, "Law doesn't have to agree with me none, 'cause Slade Johnson here does."

The gunman took a step forward, and I could almost see the evil gleam in his eyes. Beneath my hands, the shotgun barrel was warm and damp.

"So you see," Hunter continued, "you really ain't got no choice, Cartwright. Now, why don't you just hand over the kid, and we'll call it a night."

"I'm not giving you anything, Hunter. If you think you can take the boy, you can danged as well try!" I cocked the gun as I spoke, 'but you'll be coming through some hot lead!"

Hunter's wide grin disappeared, "fine, Cartwright, if that's the way you wanna do things… Just remember I offered you a way out an' you didn't take it."

Slade Johnson was already walking away by the time Tom joined him. I let the door close.

"Did you see many of them?" I questioned.

Jed turned to face me, "one by the tree an' another by the barn… Near as I can tell, they got themselves spread out every few feet around the place."

I crossed over to the adjacent window. "Pick your targets, but don't fire until you're fired upon."

"Right."

Squinting outside, I saw there wasn't much cover around. I quickly spotted one of Slade's gang behind a sage brush and a couple of guns stuck out behind the horse trough.

Jed and I were seriously out numbered. It wouldn't be a very long shoot out, unless advanced action was taken. I'd been in a lot of shoot outs, but only one other like this one.

My mind returned to that way station so long ago, when I held Hoss in my arms and watched Inger die. There were many similarities between the situations, but one thing was for sure. This time history would not repeat itself, none of my family would die.

I watched Slade and Hunter's shadowy figures mount and ride into the darkness. My gaze followed them as long as possible, but they turned corner and vanished. Hopefully, Aaron Gold was conscious and had a good view of them from the barn.

A tapping sound brought my attention back forwards, to the outlaw behind the sage plant. Something orange leapt up at his feet. He fed it twigs hurriedly, until quite a large flame rested by his side.

That was odd; it was as if he was purposefully divulging his position. I found myself more surprised as the situation repeated occurred all over the clearing. What kind of fool men were these? Giving away their cover-

The outlaw behind the sage brush tipped a large stick into the fie, and held it above his head like a torch. Suddenly, my thought's flashed back to Marta's warning in my dream.

"Fire!" I shouted breaking the window with the gun's muzzle, "fire Darn it!"

The shotgun jerked in my hands, and the outlaw fell dead. I heard a shatter and boom as Jed copied my actions.

Quickly, I chambered another round, and second man fell dead. But it was too late, fiery missiles few towards the roof. Cursing, I shot at the trough and took cover as bullets whizzed at the window.

Above me, fire crackled, consuming the roof it wouldn't last long.

Slade was driving us right out to his waiting arms! There had to be another way, there had to be!

"Jed," I shouted, "check if the back window's clear!"

"Right!" He raised the gun to his shoulder and fired. The widow broke, and bullets instantly leapt through it. "Don't reckon it is," Jed drawled.

I reloaded my rifle, hurriedly stuffing in shells. The shots from outside stopped. I jumped up to take a shot, when there was a boom, and a stinging pain ripped through my arm.

I fell to the floor, dropping my gun and gripping my shoulder tightly. Warm blood spilled onto my hand.

"Adam!" Jed cried, abandoning his post to crawl to my side, "you hit?"

"Yeah," I gritted my teeth against the pain.

He ripped the sleeve off his shirt roughly, "here, let me tie this round to stop the bleedin'."

Overhead, flames snapped among the ceiling beams.

"There's no time, we need to get of here now!"

"How? We're pinned down!"

"I'm going out the back way; you wait a few seconds and take Ella out front."

Jed stared at me, "you'll die."

Blood oozed through my fingers. "I'll die."

Flames began to spread across the walls, smoke clogged the air. I struggled towards the bed, but Ella met me half way, a bundle held tightly in her arms.

"Is Jamie alright?"

When she looked at my face, I could see the tears suspended in her eyes. "Adam, you don't have to do this, you don't-"

A burning support beam fell just before me, flames scattered across the floor.

Drawing my six shooter, I rose to my feet. "I'm sorry."

I staggered over to the window, and fired three shots out. Bullets raced towards me as I dunked. When it grew quiet, I fired the last of the bullets, and exited the window headfirst. I prayed I'd make it to the ground before I died, I never did want my body cremated.

The distraction worked, bullets filled my body as I hit the earth. Sprouts of pain erupted all over my limbs, and my breathing came hard.

"They're coming out the back way, Slade!" One of the outlaws shouted.

A rifle boomed from the house, and a cry of pain split the air. "Dang! We need back up!"

Boots tramped the ground and bodies slid upon the earth as they searched for cover. A gun rested across my chest, the earth spun beneath me. A shudder ripped through my frame and I lost cautiousness.

But I could still hear the breaking of glass; I could still hear the boom and fell the jerk of the rifle and how it grew hot across me. I heard the screams. The baby crying, the fire crackling. Jed roaring as his rifle fired for the last time, Ella shrieking as men laughed. I heard the strong slap of blows being dealt, and fabric ripping. I heard my life being destroyed…..

And then, I heard silence.

Pain followed after that, the bloody holes in my body attacked me with sharp burning hurts. A tight band constricted my chest. The breath was trapped in my lungs. And then, my broken frame began to move, though I was not the one willing it onward. I was being drug by my chest. The band grew tighter. I felt as if my ribcage was being ripped from my body.

I gripped the band with my good hand, it was not a fiery lariat from Hell as I had expected, but a plain rope.

Men's laughs rang out about me, "I told you he wasn't dead, John. How about speeding it up a little?"

My body moved faster, rocks tugged painfully at my flesh. I clamped my teeth together and held the rope tighter. The commotion around me got loader and my body was led in a circle.

Faster and faster my frame turned, and I held the constricting band.

Then without warning, I stopped. Strong arms gripped mine and held me erect. I pushed all my strength into my eyes, and forced them open.

Slade Johnson's face was an inch from my own, and he wore a wide grin. "I thought you'd like to see what me and the gang have done for you, Cartwright."

My eyelids dropped, as I began to pass out again. Slade laid his hand on my wounded shoulder and chuckled as I cried out in pain.

"You're being very rude, Cartwright, falling asleep while I'm talking to you. You'd better pay attention before I get mad." He removed his hand and continued, "Now, I think you may recognize this place," he turned my head roughly and pointed at a burning heap. "That's right, Cartwright, that's your home."

Slade watched my face intently for a few moments, but I didn't move under his gaze. "Here's something else you may find interesting." He rambled on gesturing for me to follow. I was haled over to his side, the toes of my boots barely scraping the dirt.

A bloody bundle lay on the soil, Slade kicked it over. Jed Gold's lifeless eyes gazed into my own, and his mouth hung open in a silent cry. I moved my gaze, but Slade held my neck and forced me to stare. Cold sorrow washed over me.

"You may also want to know, he died screaming for his father. Only his 'Pa' wasn't to hear to see him die. You should feel indebted to him Cartwright; we had to drag his dead carcass off of your wife so we could get at her."

My face drew down in grief, and Slade patted my wounded shoulder. "That's right, she's dead, and your brat's where it belongs with Hunter." He paused and then continued, "Don't believe me, hu? You just step over here and see for yourself."

Ella's body was in bad condition. Her clothes were torn and reddened, and her hair was caked in dry blood. The glow from the burning house made the blade sticking from her side gleam.

That's when I broke down, that's when I could no longer see because of the tears stinging my eyes, that's when I no longer understood what I heard, and my mouth could not make a sound. That's when I died.

Slade ripped the knife from Ella's body and smirked at me. "Is this your blade, Cartwright? I think it is your names on the handle… You know what we did to your wife Cartwright? Well, it wasn't one of us, you did it. You and her had a fight about Hunter; she said she wanted to go back with him, only you said no. You said if you couldn't have her nobody could. So you killed her, Cartwright, you killed your wife, and this blade proves it."

He drove the weapon back into my wife's body and drew his own. "You see this Jackknife? Of course you do, this is my knife. This is the knife I killed you with after me and the boys came riding up and we heard Ella screaming for help. Before we could make it to the house though, you threw her body out. Then we tried to make you reason and come out on your own, but you refused and fired on us. Then that boy came to us from the barn, and said he was a friend of yours, so you'd talk with him. So we let him go, only you didn't talk with him, Cartwright, you killed him.

"And then we killed you. We lit the house on fire to smoke you out and you came out alright. You lunged at me and we had a fight…. You gave me no other choice but to kill you. We were scuffing for this knife, and this is the one the sheriff's going find in your neck.

"Take a good look at it, Cartwright; take a good look at it!"

The blade flew into my face, stopping just before my nose. Slade grinned above it. My right arm shook painfully as the man holding it laughed.

"I don't know if he got suck a good glimpse, Slade, maybe you'd better show him again!"

I was not surprised to feel iron like hands squeezing the back of my head erect.

Slade tossed the knife from hand to hand playfully. "Take a good look this time, Cartwright, take a good long look."

I winced as the blade was lifted above my head and slashed down the side of my face.

I screamed. Those holding my arms dropped me by Ella's body. Blood erupted from my face and my vision grew dark.


	14. Captured Soul

I know it's taken forever, but here's the next chapter…. Hope you all like it.-OyNebach42

"_From the city, the populace groans and the souls of the slain cry out. But G-d does not lay guilty!"_

_(Job 24: 12)_

Chapter 14: Captured Soul

I recall coming once or twice to my senses after Slade's attack. Anguish made me cry out, the pain in my shoulder doubled. I could feel fingers in the wound, poking about carelessly. "Hold um, hold um!" Someone shouted and claw like fingers grasped me. The pain resumed and I thrashed. "Get the morphine!" A bitter tasting liquid was shoved into my mouth as I passed out.

The darkness cleared again, I am sure one of my eyes was open, but only grey light swam before my gaze. Another rope was stretched across my chest. I heard voices above me. "We'd better get to work on his eye, darn cuss. I wish he would have died, it sure would have saved us a lot of trouble."

"Well he didn't. Give him the drug and let's get this over with."

Again my mouth was forced open, and again I slept as the foul tasting morphine slid down my throat.

The next time I woke, I saw clearly through one eye. The other side of my face was wrapped in bandages where Slade's knife had cut me.

I was lying on a cot, in a cell. I tried to turn my head to get a better view, but the pain made me stay still.

It hit me then, it hit me and I remembered what had happened. My home was gone…. Jamie was gone…. Jed was gone…. Ella was gone…. Ella… My Ella dead, and I was still alive! I expected to have tears swell in my eye, but none came. Greif had taken its toll. Numbing sorrow that eternally fills ones soul struck me.

I was alive.

"Well, well, well, would you look who isn't dead? It's a good thing too, because I'd be sorry if I never got the chance to see him hang. Boots thudded on the floor, as the Sheriff's voice grew closer. "Yep, after what he's done it will be good to watch him hang."

"It is petty much an open shut case." Someone else agreed, "but what gets me is only witnesses we have are that Hunter character and a band of outlaws, what were they doing at the-"

"You heard what Slade said, him and his gang were pulling out of town when they heard Mrs. Hunter's screams."

"But what about Hunter, he wasn't riding around drunk again, was he?"

"No, sober this time. Couldn't sleep so he went riding, met up with Slade they got to talking and then heard the screams."

The other paused before continuing. "I still have my doubts, Sheriff. A man who is wanted for murder himself isn't likely to care if somebody else kills."

"You can keep your doubts if you want, Doc. Right now you'd better tend to Cartwright here so I can lock up."

Keys jingled and the lock sprung with a metallic clank. Both men walked up beside me, and I felt something get placed on the cot.

"I'm just going to change his bandages, it shouldn't take long." White cloths hung in my view. "I'm going to start with his shoulder and leave the eye for last."

The Sheriff argued, but let the doctor do as he saw fit. He pulled the blanket from my top half. I cringed while cold hands touched my skin.

"Careful Doc," The law warned.

"It's alright, he's still got some fever in him's all, but I am going to have to loosen these bounds to tend to his bandages."

"He's not stable anymore…. You saw what happened when we first brought him in… This man's crazed Doctor, and those ropes are the only thing keeping him from going wild."

"Nonsense! He's lost so much blood he couldn't even lift a hand if he wanted to. Now help me with these knots."

"Alright," the other agreed hesitantly, "but just incase he gets any ideas…" He drew a gun from his holster and held it were I could see it.

The rope around my top half went slack and I took a deep breath of cold air.

"Why Sheriff," the doctor exclaimed, "this mans been tied so tight, it's a wonder he's still alive."

"More of a shame if you ask me."

The doctor undid my bandages. "I didn't." He examined the wound. "Well, it is healing a little slowly, but that's understandable."

"Doc," the Sheriff broke in, "he's a killer, not my son. You don't have to give me the details, just keep him well enough that he can be at the trail Monday."

The rest of the procedure was carried out in silence. I had three bullet wounds, not counting that one in my shoulder. A slug had gone clean through my calf, another lodged in my foot and the third took the tip off my left index finger. The doctor wrapped each in fresh bandages and moved on to my eye.

When the bandages were removed, cold air rushed up to greet my hurt eye. It wouldn't close, or open. I saw nothing out of it, and I knew that only a gaping hole stood where my eye had been.

"Well," the doctor announced, after my face was covered in fresh cloth, "I'm going now, you may want to feed him while he's up, Sheriff. He'll need some nourishment if he's going to make it to the trial. Send my best to your wife."

The Sheriff kept watching me, "I will."

The door creaked as the doctor left. Sighing, the Sheriff left the cell for a moment, only to return carrying a plate of beans.

"Come on," he called, "it's time for your supper."

I blinked at him, and closed my eye. He pulled his chair up by the cot and pushed the food around with the spoon. After a while, the spoon banged against the plate. "You're going to eat now so that way you'll get to hang." A revolver clicked, "you don't have a choice."

Slowly, I opened my mouth and allowed the food in. The beans were bland and left a gritting feeling on my tongue, I had no desire to eat them, but the Sheriff kept his gun out until the entire plate was empty and I'd downed three cups of coffee.

Then the law man left for good, locking the cell door behind him, and I was alone. I lay still, trying to keep my head clear, trying not to remember the bloodshed I'd witnessed. I failed. Ella's body appeared on a blood stained earth, her wounds too numerous to count. Her screams, her cries again and again they echoed through my mind.

Jed Gold, who never harmed anyone, the misunderstood, the cursed… his lifeless eyes look into mine once more, staring, pleading and weeping…,.

Jamie, Jamie my son at the hands of that fiend Hunter. How is my son fairing with him? Starved, beaten, abandoned and traded for a bottle. That is what has become of Jamie.

All of them were taken from me…

But where was my grave? Where was my peace, my eternal sleep? My bones ached fro it, and my soul longed to ascend from my body…. I was so tired, so worn out of every breath, every thought, every movement, and every ounce of pain. I was so disgusted with my life, and yet my grave was still along way off.

I opened my eye and let it close again. The cell had grown dark, night was coming. Sleep, I was coming to value it more and more. A chance to leave my senses, a chance to almost cease from existence… I longed so for a pit to sleep in, for a padded casket to rest my head in, and thick heavy dirt to cover me and keep me warm.

My sole fear is that my wish finally be granted, that I will die and ascend to the afterlife, only to have myself reincarnated or resurrected and be forced to live again. To watch more die, and see more pain.

I fell asleep, only to dream of the Virginia City graveyard. Only there was no comforting wind, or tombstone marked grave for me to visit. It was empty and I was alone.

I woke the next morning to the sound of rifles firing. A deputy stood by me with a six shooter in his hand and several more of the Sheriff's men were scattered around the office.

"Why don't we just give him to them, Sheriff?" The deputy beside me asked, "All they want to do is hang him."

The rifle sounded again, "hu, is that all now."

"But we wanna see him hang as much as they do!"

"Yeah, but I'm not giving Cartwright over to any lynch mob. I want to see to it that he dies legally and that I'll be the one to pull the rope. I'll get my own back then on Ben Cartwright fair and square."

"You really can't blame the town though, especially with this woman murderer hogging up the cell."

The Sheriff snorted, "He isn't the first if you remember right. They'll get their hanging tomorrow after the trial." He went out to try and quiet the mob. No more shots were fired, so I assume he was successful.

After he returned, the Sheriff entered my cell and exchanged some words with the deputy before turning to me. "Sorry if all that gun fire woke you, Cartwright. See, we had a little problem with the town. They wanted you to hang early, but I made them see reason. They'll get their chance tomorrow. 'Cause after you're found guilty, we're gonna string you up, Cartwright. You know I hate you, I hate all your kind, but before you get that noose tomorrow, I want you to know why.

"A few years ago, when I first started being an officer of the law, there was a bank robbery and the men who did it fled for the hills. So we put a posy together and went after them. Ben Cartwright was in town, and he'd been a friend of mine for a few years. So we went out together and we saw him. We cornered that ornery scoundrel, and I had a perfect shot at him. Only your 'pa' wouldn't let me fire. He said you can't just shoot an unarmed man so I let him live and we brought him to town. That night, his partner busted him out of jail and they tried to make their getaway. My daughter saw them and you know what they did to her, Cartwright?" The Sheriff's voice choked with emotion, "They did unspeakable things to my Jenny before the finally let her die… I killed those men myself, Cartwright, I learnt that day that it doesn't matter why or how you kill a criminal, what matters is you do it once you get a chance and bring him down."

I started at the Sheriff with my good eye. "I'm sorry," I whispered, after he gave me a vicious stare I continued. "I'm sorry about your daughter."

He nodded, "any man convicted to hang would be." But he still untied my bounds and let my feed myself some beans. I fell asleep that night, wondering if tomorrow I'd meet a girl named Jenny who was awful sorry for what her Pa had done.


	15. Trial

Everyone, I need to make a major announcement before continuing with this chapter. First of all, I have decided that "Angel of Death" will evolve into a Death fic. I have placed a warning on the summery, you are now all warned.

Chapter 15: Trial

_"If only my anger were to be weighed, my trauma put upon a scale, it would be heavier than the sand of the seas; therefore my words are confused. (Job 6: 2-3)_

I was ripped from the luxurious blackness of sleep by the sheriff's rough hands. He shook me and yelled about the trial. I opened my eye slowly, and was drug to a sitting position.

I was then given a set of over sized clothes and ordered to dress. After struggling on my own for a few moments, one of the deputies helped me. The shirt barely fit over my bandaged shoulder and the pants leg was pulled tight against my calf. I appeared in court that day with only one shoe, my left foot was too torn up to leave the bandages and too tender to walk upon.

A wheelchair sat beside my cot. The Sheriff forced me into it and bound me to it with rope. I had grown used to the tight restraint across my lungs, my breathing rasped accordingly to accommodate it.

A deputy wheeled me outside to greet the gray dawn. I closed my eyes as the chair rolled smoothly across the boardwalk. "Better enjoy this while you can," the deputy advised, "your return trip ain't gonna be a thing like this."

I knew it wouldn't be. I wouldn't even be taken back to the sheriff's office. Straight after the trail, the town would take me in a beeline to the hanging post.

The deputy paused when we passed the gallows. I watched the noose sway in the soft breeze and how the sun shone down on it.

"Yes," I muttered to myself, "that should do fine."

The deputy stared at me, " I thought somebody should tell you, before we got to the courthouse, that you ain't gonna have no trail, Mister. The whole towns sure you're guilty and you ain't paid for a fancy lawyer. Nobody wanted to defend you anyway, but the Sheriff." He paused, "he's gonna be your lawyer."

I kept my gaze on the noose, "I know."

The deputy shrugged and resumed pushing me down the road. He didn't stop again until we were outside the courthouse gate.

"What took you so long?" The Sheriff barked as he took over steering me. "You kept us all waiting, boy!"

"It wasn't my fault," the boy insisted, "this darn cuss was compaining and thrashing the whole way over here, I almost had to shoot him to make him keep still."

"Is that true, Cartwright?"

"Of course it is, couldn't you hear me shouting that I don't want to die?"

The Sheriff shoved the wheelchair forward. I was not surprised when he stopped our progress just before the entrance to check his weapon with a deputy standing by the door. "This is so no one gets to kill you early." He informed me, "You're mine, Cartwright, mine."

As I was wheeled inside, everyone present turned to stare upon me. A few had pity in their eyes, some confusion, but the most dominant emotion I caught in their gazes was hatred, pure unhidden hatred. And most of those looks came from the jury. This would not be a fair trail. But, I really didn't want a fair trail.

The prosecutor began his argument, but I missed his words. I paid no attention to anything, until I was pushed up to the witness stand and a man ordered me to put my hand on and bible and swear. I did, I swore. With the pain in my shoulder stopping me from lifting my hand, I swore.

The enemy began his attack, snapping out questions and not waiting for the answers. "You were married to Ella Hunter, were you not?" He scrutinized me, eyes darting across my face, searching for a weakness.

"Yes, I was."

"And is it not true that her child was fathered by Tomas Hunter?"

"It's true."

He leaned forward, eyebrows lowered, lip curling. "What did Ella Hunter think when she found out Tomas Hunter was still alive?"

"It upset her-"

"Why would it upset her? Because she still loved him? Because she mearly married you out of desperation? Because she wanted to go back to him?"

"No!" I hissed, breath caught in the band around my chest. "No, it upset her that he was still alive! Tomas Hunter mistreated her, he drunk all her money away, imprisoned her in her own home, and ran off to let her die!"

My adversary folded his arms, "is that what you believe, Mr. Cartwright, that you released Ella Hunter from this 'prison', that you did her a kindness by killing her?"

"I didn't kill her!"

The court room exploded in voices. It took the judge banging his gavel to get those gathered under control.

"You have heard Tomas Hunter and Tom Spring from Slade's gang testify against you. You heard the Sheriff address your insanity. You've seen the knife with your name inscribed upon the handle that was found in Ella Hunter's body. You've heard towns folk testify to hearing her screams. You've heard more proof against you than you'll ever be able to deny! Now tell the court, Mr. Cartwright, tell them who killed Ella Hunter, whose fault is it that she died. Who murdered her!"

I stared into the lawyer's maddened, bloodshot eyes. His hot breath blew in my face, sweat beaded his forehead.

"The Angel of Death," I whispered.

"What!" The lawyer roared, "Tell the court again who killed Ella Hunter!"

People in the room began shouting again. I lowered my eyes, blocking myself off from the world again, but one of the calls made it through my well built up state. It was a load demanding shout and it said:

"You got the wrong man, Judge."

I looked up and saw Aaron Gold standing in the doorway, one of his hands was grasping a revolver, the other; Slade's neck. Those around him gasped in horror, and the deputy sprung to his feet, drawing his gun as he did so.

Aaron chuckled, "It's a little too late for that, boy."

He dropped Slade then, the body slid to the floor; leaving a trail of blood across Aaron's shirt. "He was your man, Judge. I saw it, Adam saw it, Hunter saw it, Slade and his gang saw it. We all saw him kill Ella Hunter and my son Jed. You're about to sentence an innocent man to death." Aaron looked across the faces of those gathered. "I just thought you all should know that…." He slumped against the hand rails. I could see a blotch of red spreading over his side. "Thought you should know that," he mumbled and died.

The accusing lawyer turned to me again, "who did you say killed Ella Hunter?"

"An angel," I repeated, "the Angel of Death."

Strangely enough, they took me back to the jail house after that. The town insisted that the Sheriff look into Aaron's death. I was pushed into my cell and was surprised to see a young sailor in the cell next to mine.

We began talking somehow, and he told me about himself, his name was Gillian Mable. He worked on one of those clipper ships that my father was always telling me about. He'd gotten into a drunken brawl, thus being his reason for imprisonment.

"Do you have a family?" He asked me.

I nodded, "I have some kin, in Nevada."

Gilly smiled, "Lucky you, I never had anyone. I've been a cabin boy all my life. Friendless as a gull, that's me, my hand at everyone's throats, and everyone's hand at mine."

"I'd like you to do me a favor," I told him, "I'd like you to write a letter to Virginia City Nevada, to the Ponderosa Ranch and let my family know what happened. They'd worry," I grinned slightly, "if I stopped writing suddenly."

Gilly sat up on his cot, "what do you want me to tell them?" He asked.

"Nothing much, just that I died. You needn't include how it happened… My hot headed brothers would get into some trouble out here if that happened."

"Are you sure, wouldn't they wonder? Then maybe they'd come out here anyway."

"Smart lad. No, I wouldn't want that. Listen, do you have a pencil and paper with you? Can you write as I speak?"

Gilly nodded, "sure."

"Good," I replied and told him the whole story.


	16. The Last Letter

_"…Let whoever contends with me write a book I would carry it upon my shoulder; bind it as crowns upon my self, I would tell him the number of my steps, I would draw him close to me like a prince… Job's words have ended." (Job 31:35-37)_

Chapter 16 : The Last Letter

As Adam Cartwright finishes dictating this manuscript to me, a deputy comes to the door. "Time for you to go, Death Angel." he calls while unlocking the cell.

Adam's face tries to stretch to a smile, "I have to leave now," he tells me simply, "It was a pleasure getting to know you, Gilly. You do me a favor and make sure this article makes it to Virginia City, alright?"

I tell him I will.

"Good," He says and stands up. I watch as he stumbles towards the door, hands still cuffed and legs shackled. "Make sure my family knows how it was when I went, they don't have to worry about me anymore….. That I've found that peace that I was always looking for…." His voice trails off as the deputy put a hand on his back and supports him to the door.

I follow and watch as The Death Angel is led the back of the jail. A large crowd has gathered below the gallows, I look upon them and wonder if any of them knew how innocent the man being hung is.

Adam Cartwright's bent form is pushed onto the platform. One could easily tell he was worn out, from the way his back hunches and his breath comes in gasps. The crowd boos as he takes his place beside the noose. Raising his hands, the sheriff quiets them.

"Listen folks," he calls, "I know you're all waiting to see this man get hung, we all know what he's done to our town."

"Hanging's too good of a punishment!" Someone sings out from the crowd.

The sheriff continues, "Hanging is too good of a punishment for him, but that's what the courts decided on." Easily, he lowers the noose and slides it around Adam's neck, "any last words, Death Angel?"

Adam turns his gaze skywards and announces quietly, "it's my time." Those in the crowd jeer and mock, but all can see the twinkle in Adam's eye. The wind blows about harshly, ruffling his tattered clothes.

"It sure is." The sheriff grunts, he turns around to face the deputy. "Pull the leaver, Slim."

The deputy did as he was told. With a mighty clang, the floor flies out from under the outlaw's feet. For a moment Adam struggles, legs kicking the air and hands writhing as they try to reach his throat. Horrible croaks split the air. Death Angel's face turns blue, the thrashing stops, his eyes roll back in his skull, and his body hangs limply.

As those gathered cheer, I find the strength to smile for Adam Cartwright's sake, his hardships are finally over.

Gilly Mable

1874

_So you see now Little Joe, though I have never met you, or your family, you know me as your brother Adam. And thus I would wish to be remembered as, if it was up to me. I am sorry that Adam could not make it to your father's death bed, I wish there would have been something I could have done that day to save him. In a way, I think I did, I kept him alive long enough to ease some of your father's pain and worry._

_I wish I could be there myself with Pa, but I look nothing like your brother and so my lie would be reviled._

_I am truly sorry,_

_Gillian Mable_


End file.
